


Gotta Run Another Night

by DarkScales



Series: It's A New Start [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (I can't believe that's a tag ha), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based on a Tumblr Post, Canon-Typical Violence, Complete, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Keith-Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10045460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkScales/pseuds/DarkScales
Summary: When Keith stowed aboard a passing cargo transport, he expected to sneak off on some backwater colony to disappear into the wilds of space.  What he didn’t expect was finding a giant red lion-ship, that same ship turning out to be sentient, and everything that followed.  (Featuring Keith being his usual prickly self, adventures in a ventilation system, and general misadventures all around.)





	1. You Can’t Take Me (I’m Free)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr post by an-android-in-a-tutu, which can be found on my blog [here](http://darkscaleswriter.tumblr.com/post/156707725678/an-android-in-a-tutu-darkscaleswriter). Be warned, it's quite long. ^.^'
> 
> Thanks for reading, and enjoy the fic!

In hindsight, Keith probably should've chosen a different ship.

Ducking a blast that sizzled over his head, Keith skidded around a corner and barely missed colliding with a startled guard going the other way. The straps of his back rubbed against his shoulders, small and light despite how it contained all of his worldly possessions. With a hood pulled over his head and loose clothes easy to move in, he was quick and nimble and too fast to hit.

" _Vannek,_ " Keith swore as a hall to the hangar that should've been clear was very much not. Security was _ridiculous_ on this ship, and if he didn't find an escape pod or a fighter or something soon, he was going to get caught. At that point, he'd even take the clunkiest cargo ship in existence if it meant he could escape.

He _really_ didn't want to get caught.

Whirling, Keith bolted for a different exit. Maybe he could circle around, get into the hangar from the other side–

The intruder alert that blared claxons overhead informed him otherwise.

Keith snarled, ears flattening at the harsh sound. He could hear more patrols running his way, rattling armor and pounding feet converging on his position. Casting about for an escape route, Keith saw a narrow grate in the wall and leapt for it. If he had been a full-blooded Galra, there was no way he would've fit, but since he wasn't…

 _Thanks, Dad,_ Keith thought with a wry twist of his lips as he watched the guards look in every direction but up. _Guess your genes finally came in handy._

Still, the guards would figure it out soon enough, which meant that he had to get moving.

Keith crawled through the vents as swiftly as he could, trying not to sneeze on the dust that coated every surface, including him. Thankfully, the alarms covered up the sound of his movements, but he knew it wouldn't last. He needed to get to the hangar, steal a ship, and get out of there as soon as possible.

Passing over one of the cargo bays, though, Keith's attention was diverted by something strange. Despite knowing it was probably a bad idea, he slowed, stopped, and leaned down to peer through the vent cover for a closer look. Below, the bay was washed in a strange red glow, almost like fire– or blood. It originated from a particle barrier that enclosed what appeared to be… a giant mechanical lion, of all things?

Keith's breath caught. He wasn't sure why, but there was a tug in his chest, a pull that was luring him down into the room. Something about the lion called to him, drew him in…

Almost before he realized what he was doing, Keith had opened the vent cover and was climbing down. This was stupid, he told himself, probably suicidal, but he found himself doing it anyway.

"Wow," Keith murmured, pressing a hand against the barrier. It was warm, like rocks in sunlight, like the walls of an engine room, like a fire in the dark of night. Idly, he wondered what it would take to get through it. The barrier's design was unlike anything in Zarkon's fleet, but it was close enough that Keith could recognize it as one of the strongest particle barriers he'd ever encountered. Impressive, but why?

"He's in the lion's bay!"

Startled back into action, Keith whipped around, but he was too late. Guards had already spilled into the room and sealed off the doors, and before Keith could clamber back into the vents, the grate sparked and buzzed with electric charge.

He was trapped.

Keith swallowed, backing away as the guards advanced. He drew his dagger, even though there were too many for him to fend off for long. Still, he refused to go quietly. He would go down fighting, even if–

His back hit the control terminal, and Keith had a terrible, reckless ( _amazing_ ) idea. It was most likely going to go spectacularly wrong and end with his dead body drifting in the cold of open space, but… well, it wasn't as if he had any better options.

The guards fired. Keith spun, and, simultaneously sheathing his dagger, slammed his palm down on the panel labeled _Open Airlock._

He had just enough time to see the guards try to backpedal, but they were too late. The vacuum of space taking hold, they were sucked out and tossed away to careen past him.

For a moment, Keith thought that his wild plan might have actually worked. He clung to the terminal for dear life and saw rather than heard the non-robotic guards scream as they were yanked away. Keith's arms were nearly torn out of their sockets, claws wrapped desperately around the terminal's corners. He held on, though, and after that last guard was out–

By some form of sheer luck, the last guard was close enough to snatch Keith's leg as they tumbled past.

Keith reflexively cried out as he was ripped away, but void stole the air straight out of his lungs. Open space yawned wide and unforgiving around him, ice on his skin and in his bones and he was numb because he knew, he _knew,_ that this was how he would die.

Except–

Distantly, Keith saw the barrier around the red lion-robot flash, flicker, fade. It stood, rising up on its paws, tail lashing. The lion crouched, jaws opening– and, of all things, _leapt._

Keith barely had a tick to register glowing yellow eyes and metal teeth, the giant creature blotting out the stars and then– its mouth snapped shut around him. Keith fell to his hands and knees as gravity reasserted itself, gulping in air with desperate gasps. For a long minute, all he could do was stare at his own hands, at the fine tremors that made them tremble like a shred of cloth in the wind.

He was _alive._

Keith let himself collapse, giddy with relief. The straps on his pack were frayed, had probably been half a beat away from snapping entirely, but he hadn't lost a thing. He had escaped. He was _free._

...Well, sort of. Keith looked around, taking in what appeared to be the inside of a ship. Hauling himself to his feet, Keith took a few unsteady steps before he got his limbs under control again. The ship was warm, he realized, warm like the lion's particle barrier had been. Warm in every way that space wasn't, chasing out the bitter cold that seemed to have settled in Keith's bones.

The ship rumbled in what Keith would swear sounded like a purr. Keith froze, heart skipping a beat. Was the ship… sentient? _Alive?_

What the _vannek._

"Um." Keith cleared his throat, feeling distinctly awkward about talking to thin air. "I don't– I don't know if you understand me, but. Thanks. For saving me, I mean."

The ship purred again. Keith, already half-expecting it, marveled at the way the sound seemed to echo from everywhere at once. So, the ship really was aware. Somehow. He hadn't thought that was possible, but the evidence was literally surrounding him.

Making his way along the inside of the lion's mouth, Keith found himself in the cockpit. With a brief moment of hesitation, he dropped his pack to one side and cautiously settled into the pilot's seat. He knew he had made the right decision when holographic screens popped up and the lion favored him with another purr. Outside, stars blurred past at ridiculous speeds, the lion faster and smoother than any other ship he'd ever flown.

"Wow," Keith breathed. "This is amazing!"

Somehow, the lion gave off an impression of being incredibly smug.

The temporary peace was broken, though, when an alert flashed and a screen opened to display entire squads of fighters in rapid pursuit. Shots lanced toward them, a couple glancing off of the lion's side. Running mostly on guesswork and instinct– because the controls of this ship were _nothing_ like the controls of a Galra ship, and he hadn't exactly had time to figure them out –Keith grabbed for the handles on either side of his seat and threw them into a sharp turn.

The lion handled like a _dream._ Keith had already been a good pilot, able to outfly everyone else in his training group, but this– this was on a different level entirely. The lion moved with him as one, and they were able to do a lot more than just outmaneuver their pursuers. An experimental press of the buttons on the handles revealed that the lion even had weapons, powerful enough to tear the fighters to shreds with a single hit. Keith couldn't help it and whooped in exhilaration, feeling lighter than he had in forever. Soon, every ship that had been sent out after him was little more than scrap, and he and the lion were rapidly flying out of range of any retaliation.

In front of them, there was a spark, a glow, and out of nowhere a blue wormhole portal spun into existence. Keith jerked back on reflex, pulling on the controls, but–

The lion didn't stop, and in the space of a heartbeat, the portal swallowed them whole.

* * *

Keith and his strange new ship came out above a deserted moon, lightyears away from any civilized planet that Keith knew. The lion landed with hardly a bump, smooth and gentle. The only thing they could see was barren rock that stretched as far as the eye could discern.

With a faint groan, Keith unclenched his grip on the controls and slumped. He let his head hit the back of the seat, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to process what had just happened. There was an odd sort of buzz at the edges of his mind, now, a sense of connection and pulsing heat that hadn't been there before. It was strange, but… not necessarily in a bad way. He honestly wasn't sure what to think about it.

"So," Keith said to nobody in particular, "that happened."

In his mind, there was a flare of amusement that wasn't his own. Okay, yeah, that was definitely weird.

The sense of amusement increased.

Feeling slightly less foolish than before, Keith blinked up at the ceiling and said, "Thanks for saving me again. And for getting us out of there."

...Satisfaction, that time. Interesting. So, the ship was sentient enough to communicate with him in feelings and impressions, but not in words? How did that work? As far as he could tell, it was mechanical, not organic in any way. Was it an AI?

The indignant prod at his brain made him wince. Apparently not.

"What _are_ you?" Keith asked, baffled. He had never heard of a ship shaped like a lion before. What was the point? What was its purpose? What had it been doing in the cargo hold of an Empire transport?

The lion did not answer.

"Fine, be that way." Keith straightened, taking the time to properly look around. With a frown, he saw that the text scrolling along the screens and labeling the controls was all in what appeared to be Old Galran, for some reason. Strange. More importantly, though, it meant that he could barely read a fraction of it.

...That was probably going to be a problem.

All that aside, though, Keith looked out into the distant stars and couldn't help the grin that broke out across his face. There was nothing stopping him from going wherever he wanted. There were no regulations standing in his way, no commanding officers to drag him back, no suffocating rules that kept him trapped any longer. If they tried to take him back, he'd outfly them again. They couldn't catch him, not when he piloted the red lion-ship.

He was _free._

All around him, the lion– _his_ lion, now –hummed in satisfaction.

 _Free,_ she seemed to echo. _Yes. We are free._

Keith slumped forward, laughing a bit. What he was about to try was maybe a long shot, since it didn't seem to be able to communicate in words, but… "You're pretty cool for a giant cat-ship thing, you know that? You got a name?"

A surprised pause. Then, a burst of something that might've been approval, followed by blurred images of scarlet sunsets and roaring fire and orange-red magma. The cockpit seemed to glow even brighter, shining until all Keith could see was crimson.

"Red?" Keith guessed, because that seemed like the simplest answer. "Is that your name? Red?"

He was rewarded with a pleased rumble. The entire cockpit vibrated with the force of it.

"Okay, Red it is." Keith got up, walking back to where he'd dropped his pack. "You mind if I take a look around?"

Red sent him a sense of acceptance. He could get used to that, Keith decided. Having a second presence in his head was weird, yeah, but he'd heard of alien species who had mind links with their entire _planets._ At least this was only one other person. Ship. Thing.

Keith grabbed his pack, making a mental note to fix it soon or get a replacement, and left the cockpit. The rest of the lion didn't glow red as the cockpit did, but there wasn't exactly a lot to see. The only thing of note that Keith found was a small cargo bay holding emergency supplies, but all the foodstuffs were long since expired and he barely recognized anything in the medical kits. Along one wall were extra suits of red and white armor, but Keith bypassed those in favor of the darker body armor suits along a different wall that wouldn't paint a shining target on his back. Those were of a sleeker design, probably meant more for stealth than anything else.

Perfect.

The first thing he needed to do, Keith decided as he pulled on one of the suits– which, oddly enough, actually fit him –was to go outside and examine Red. Based on what he'd seen so far, she hadn't been active in long time. Thousands of years, maybe, if the expiration dates on the food had been any indication. Keith needed to make sure that any maintenance issues were taken care of, because the last thing he wanted to happen was for something critical to break down at exactly the wrong time.

The second thing, just as urgent, was to resupply. As Keith used the suit's jetpack ( _very_ handy; whoever had stocked Red in the first place was smart) to jump off of Red's head and down to the moon's surface, he made a mental list of what they had to get. Food, water, new medkits, maybe some clothes that were more inconspicuous that his regulation blacks that were meant to be worn beneath Empire armor. Whatever was required for Red's maintenance, which could be anything from replacement parts to a simple tune-up kit. Keith was used to traveling light, so there wasn't much else he needed for himself, but… maybe a tablet or something so that he could keep up on news would be nice. And some sort of translation software for Old Galran, too.

Standing on the ground beside Red, Keith began to examine her. Her paint was chipped and dented in some places, scratched up with the wear and tear of time, but as far as he could tell she was in near-perfect condition. When he experimentally wiped off some of the soot left behind from a glancing blast, it was to find the metal below still good as new. That was impressive.

"Guess I don't need to worry about you so much, huh?" Keith said, patting Red's leg. "You're pretty tough. A lot tougher than me, that's for sure."

With a burst of the jetpack, he was back atop Red's head. A glance around showed that he still wasn't quite sure where they were, but that was fine. He'd figure it out. As he dropped back into the cockpit, screens lighting up around him, Keith asked, "Red, can you show me how to get to Iaketha Station from here?"

A screen opened in front of him, with spaces to input coordinates. Keith leaned forward to type them in, grinning when a flight path traced itself out after a few ticks. "Thanks, Red. Ready to go?"

The lion rumbled, crouched, and took off. Keith barely had time to brace himself, taking back the controls as they swerved around an asteroid. "I guess that was a yes."

Red had an attitude, Keith was delighted to note. Seemed like they were a perfect match.

In the back of his mind, Red pulsed amused agreement.

* * *

The problem, Keith realized, with having a massive lion-shaped ship was that it was by no means inconspicuous and it was unsurprisingly difficult to hide.

"I don't suppose you can turn invisible or anything?" Keith sighed, not really expecting a response as he circled the station at a wary distance. It was a moderately-sized colony on a relatively large moon that served mainly as a waystation for travelers, with few permanent residents and a more than healthy dose of criminals that frequented it. Iaketha Station operated on the bare fringes of legality, teetering on the edge of being a full-on black market outpost. If one was smart, it was possible to get nearly anything there. If one wasn't smart, well… there was a reason Keith wasn't going unarmed.

In the end, Keith settled for landing Red on the dark side of the moon, far enough away that nobody would find her and close enough for him to make a quick getaway if the need arose. Hopefully, if he got what he was needed and found who he was searching for, he wouldn't have to, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

(He'd learned that the hard way. This was far from his first escape attempt, and the others had taught him valuable– if painful –lessons.)

Nothing had really changed from his last visit, Keith noted. Some shops were closed while new ones were open, but on the whole, landmarks and certain stores were as consistent as ever. It was easy enough to resupply, thought it took some haggling with his limited funds, and soon he was slipping into a dusky bar after depositing his purchases back in Red's cargo bay. She had seemed confused about why he was going back, but he had told her that it was a personal matter.

The bartender considered him with suspicion. Keith had a hooded cloak on, hiding most of his Galra features, but yellow eyes were difficult to disguise. Still, he was counting on his small size and obvious desire not to cause trouble to prevent the bartender from ejecting him entirely.

"What do you want, kid?" she asked, folding four of her eight arms. The other four mixed drinks and wiped down glasses at the same time, deft and efficient.

Keith put his hands on the bar's countertop to show that he wasn't holding any weapons. "Has Laktixa come by recently?"

The bartender went still. Leaned in close, six beady eyes narrowing. "...Keith?"

Keith's lips quirked up in a crooked grin. "I knew you'd recognize me."

She straightened. " _Damn,_ it's been a while. Last I heard, your mother was heading out to the Endonirn System to look for you, but that was months ago by our time. And we haven't actually seen you around here for _years._ What happened?"

Keith grimaced. "I was… stuck, for a while. Just got out recently." He made to leave, giving a bartender a polite nod. "Thanks for the information."

"No problem. Say hi to her for me when you find her, yeah?" The bartender flashed him a toothy smile. "And tell her that she still owes me those ten GAC."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine." He lifted his hand in a wave as he slipped out the door, sighing. The Endonirn System wasn't all that far away, but if it had been months ago that she'd searched there, then she was probably long gone by now. It wasn't as if he had any better leads, though, he supposed that the Endonirn System was where he was going next. So, pulling his hood down low and hunching his shoulders, Keith made his way back towards where he'd left Red.

As he passed by an alleyway, though, he stopped. He almost hadn't caught it, but he could've sworn he heard–

There was a high-pitched cry, a low snarl, and then a violet blur slammed into Keith without warming. Keith stumbled back, feeling his hood slide off, arms automatically coming up to grab the kid that had barreled into him. They were a bit shorter than him, short enough that Keith could see over their head– and see the furious being stalking out of the alleyway with murderous intent, an impressive bruise forming over one eye.

" _Vannek,_ " Keith swore. How did he get into these situations?

"Help me!" the kid yelped as they ducked around Keith to hide behind him. "You're Galra too, right? You gotta help me!"

"Galra _scum,_ " the being spat, advancing on them. "Your kind are all the same; all you do is destroy!"

"Um." Keith backed up, the kid shuffling behind him. "I think there's been a misunderstanding, I'm just here to resupply, and then I'll leave."

The larger being did not look impressed. " _Sure_ you are. Then why are you defending that brat?" Xe advanced further. Keith's hand dropped to where he kept his dagger, preparing for a fight.

Keith risked a glance back at the kid. "You know, that's a good question."

The kid stared up at him in betrayal. "I just got lost, I was here with my parents but I got lost and I knocked over his display case! It was an _accident_ I _swear_ it was!"

Keith turned back to the other alien, brow raised. "Seriously?"

"He did it on purpose!" xe accused. Bioluminescent markings flashed, and if Keith was reading that pattern right, it didn't bode well for him. "He destroyed a hundred GACs' worth of merchandise!"

"So, what, you were going to beat 'em up for it?" Keith gripped his dagger. "A kid? Really? That's just low."

"Says the _Galra,_ " xe sneered, and lunged.

Keith dodged the initial attack, but he couldn't move as he wanted– the kid was still behind him, and he couldn't leave them vulnerable. Instead, he spun, dragging the kid with him.

"Stay here," Keith instructed, shoving the kid into an alcove that shadowed a grimy door. Keith whirled back around just in time to punch their attacker in the gut, earning himself a pained wheeze. Without hesitation, Keith pressed the attack, pulling every dirty trick he knew to finish things as quickly as possible. Merciless, he aimed for sensitive spots and weak joints, lashing out with claws to score parallel slashes across flesh.

His attacker snarled, pulling a blaster. Keith unsheathed his dagger and buried it in the firearm's barrel, matching his opponent's snarl. Spinning low, Keith swept out his leg to send his opponent toppling over, and within another heartbeat, Keith had his blade at the other being's neck.

"Leave the kid alone," Keith growled, "or next time, I really will kill you."

The crowd that had gathered around them shifted, muttering amongst themselves. Keith ignored them, but kept a wary eye out for if the mood changed. He would rather not get lynched, especially not with the kid still vulnerable.

After a bare moment of tension, his opponent gave reluctant assent. "Fine."

"Good." Keith stepped back, sheathing his dagger. Angling himself to both look at the kid and keep their attacker in his peripheral vision, he asked, "Where did you last see your parents?"

The kid blinked at him. "Um…"

Thankfully, that was right when two Galra burst out of the crowd, running past Keith to sweep the child up in a desperate hug. Keith could see the family resemblance and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that it wasn't his problem anymore. Before they could turn around to thank him, Keith flipped his hood back up and ducked into the crowd, disappearing before he could draw any more attention to himself.

"Thank goodness that's over," Keith muttered. If he was lucky, that incident wouldn't come back to bite him.


	2. I Wanna Know What's Going On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith encounters three more lion-ships, tangles with yet more people out to catch him, and really wants some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments and/or kudos! You're all amazing, and I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! :D

It came back to bite him.

Keith dragged a hand down his face with an aggrieved groan. "You've got to be _kidding_ me."

Unfortunately, when he looked again, it was still there. Mocking him. _WANTED FOR GRAND THEFT, DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY, AND DISTURBANCE OF THE PEACE,_ the alert read in blocky print. _LAST SIGHTED AT IAKETHA STATION. WARNING: ARMED AND DANGEROUS._

A brief glance at the numbers prominently displayed made him cringe. "Well, _that's_ going to bring down every bounty hunter in the universe down on my head," Keith groaned again. The Empire, after realizing he'd stolen Red, had put a price on him that would make anyone rich for the rest of their lives. Someone had reported him from his fight at Iaketha Station a few standard days previous, too, which only made things worse.

Turning his tablet off, Keith set it aside with a sigh. "We're gonna have to lay even lower than before for a while," he said aloud, stretching out his legs.

Red's metallic ear pressed solid against Keith's back as he watched two of the planet's five moons rise into the night sky. A distant galaxy yawned overhead, stardust glittering silver-bright. The entire image was remarkably picturesque, the sort of thing that people put on advertisements for getaway vacations or displayed in galleries. Keith could appreciate the beauty of it, nothing but open skies and unpolluted air.

The planet that he and Red were on was uninhabited due to its ridiculously aggressive wildlife and lack of any natural resources that could conceivably make a profit. The atmosphere was so thin that Keith had to wear a suit every time he went out, but there was enough fresh water to live off of and some of the slightly slower creatures were surprisingly tasty. He and Red had skirted around any settled systems, giving them a wide berth for fear of discovery. Luckily, Keith had stocked up on enough supplies to last them months, maybe even longer if he rationed properly and hunted for himself as much as possible.

At the moment, they were holed up in a cave located high up on a mountain that jutted out from a forest of dark green trees. From their vantage point, they would be able to see anybody coming for them before they were detected themselves. On the horizon, a dark shape wheeled and dove, visible only as a silhouette that blotted out the stars. Though the night was cold, Red radiated warmth, enough that Keith could probably fall asleep right then and there.

That was probably a bad idea, though, so Keith convinced himself to get up and climbed back into Red's cockpit instead. Behind the pilot's chair was his sleeping bag, small and worn but serviceable. Keith stripped out of his armor before sliding in, placing it neatly to one side. Outside, he could see the open skies and watch the shining moons, but inside, all he heard was the comforting hum of Red's machinery.

"You'll keep watch?" he mumbled, already dozing off. Red was warm around him, comfortable and soothing. His eyes slipped closed as he let go, releasing his hold on consciousness.

Keith fell asleep to the rumble of his lion's assent.

* * *

Two planet-days later, Keith was in the middle of eating his dinner with Red's systems on standby when the cockpit lit up crimson and a video screen popped up directly in front of him.

Across the line, several people shrieked. Keith choked on his ration bar, randomly hit buttons to try and turn it off, and only succeeded in making the video expand to twice its original size.

" _Holy crow, it's a Galra, why is there somebody in there why is there a_ Galra _in there?!_ " Keith heard one of them wail. " _That's it, we're all dead, they've already captured the lion–_ "

Keith fruitlessly tried to push more buttons, even though he was still coughing on a chunk of ration bar and cursing himself. If only that translation software had worked, everything would've been _so much easier._ "Red! Red, what the _zannek_ is going on?!"

The lion did not answer. Keith suspected she was laughing at him.

On the video screen, a woman with white hair and dark skin marked in crescents under her eyes pushed her way to the front. " _Who are you?_ " she demanded, leaning in close to the camera. " _What are you doing in the Red Lion?_ "

Keith ignored her, hissing in frustration when he managed to turn the cabin lights off but nothing else. Given that it was pitch-black outside, this left the video screen and a few other diagnostic holograms as the only sources of dim light in the cockpit.

A bipedal alien with yellow and white armor yelped, jumping back. " _Holy crow what just happened?_ "

 _I turned the lights off, genius,_ Keith snarked to himself, trying to figure out how to turn them back on. For some reason, even though he repeatedly pressed the exact same button again, they stayed stubbornly off.

Red was _definitely_ laughing at him, Keith decided. She had to be doing this on purpose.

"Red? Any ideas?" Keith asked, only half-expecting an answer. The lion was outright helpful only when she felt like it, which, in his limited experience, seemed to be rarely.

She did not reply, but there was a vague sense of uncertainty beneath the amusement.

Keith swallowed. Well, that was all he needed to know.

Meanwhile, the strange woman was still talking at him, a fierce scowl slashed across her face. " _Answer me, Galra!_ " she ordered, and her tone was so reminiscent of Keith's old army commanders that he bristled on reflex.

"Screw you," he snapped, baring his teeth as echoes of _Half-breed, runt, useless, run another punishment lap_ rang in his ears. More curses piled up in his throat but he bit them back, focusing instead on sweeping up the provisions scattered across the cockpit before he could take off and fly away.

" _Damn, those eyes are creepy,_ " the smallest of the aliens muttered. " _Hold on, guys, I'm going to see if I can track the signal._ "

Keith went stiff. Track the signal? They were _searching_ for him. Oh, that was not good. He didn't know who these people were or what they wanted, but he had a feeling that they wouldn't hesitate to take Red from him and toss his body into open space. At least they didn't seem like more bounty hunters, though. He already had enough of those to deal with.

"Red? Any time you want to cut them off would be good," Keith urged, falling back into the pilot's seat with his hands resting on the controls. He wasn't entirely sure why the call was even still on, but given that he was _positive_ a communication's line shouldn't have been that complicated to turn off, she had to be keeping it open for a reason.

Around him, the lion rumbled, and Keith felt her rise to her feet. He grinned as the lights flickered back to life, the video screen vanished as if it had never been there, and his view of the stars outside returned. " _There_ we go."

Without further pause, Red leapt into the air and they left the deserted planet behind. Keith didn't know how those people had managed to contact him or what they wanted, but there was no way he was sticking around to find out. Not when they made even Red a bit nervous, and definitely not when he knew from their expressions that they would probably hate him for being Galra.

Hopefully, their call had only been a fluke, and it wouldn't happen again. Somehow, though… Keith didn't think he was that lucky. He had a feeling that he'd be seeing those strangers again, and probably sooner than he'd like.

_Zannek._

Keith relaxed his grip on the controls as he watched the planet shrink behind them, smaller and smaller until it was just a shining pinprick like any other star. "Hey, Red. Any ideas on where to head next?"

An image appeared in his mind's eye, and Keith's face broke out into a grin. The coordinates that Red displayed on a holographic screen were remote, unsettled, and generally out of the way.

Perfect.

* * *

The planet they landed on half a standard day later was all desert canyons and dust-dry air, the terrain some bland shade of yellow-orange-brown as a grey sky cringed away from clawing rock formations eroded smooth by the wind. Keith and Red hid themselves in one of the canyons, crouched on a ledge just under the surface and partially blocked by a low overhang.

According to Red's scanners, there was water in the caves below, so Keith went to go check it out. Getting into the tunnel system was easy, but actually _navigating_ it was… rather less so. By the time Keith had gotten to the underground pools, found that they were guarded by _highly territorial_ reptilian creatures, and hastily beat a retreat back, somebody else had found his lion first.

Keith froze. Standing in front of Red was one of the aliens from the video call, dressed in blue and white armor that was an exact copy of the sets that he'd seen in Red's cargo bay. The alien was staring up at Red with their hands on their hips, while Red gave off a sense of being distinctly unimpressed. The alien hadn't noticed Keith yet, but Red was broadcasting a wary sort of vague irritation in the back of Keith's mind, and she knew he was there for sure.

Silently, thanking his dark armor, Keith crept through the shadows of the cavern until he drew level with the blue alien. From there, he could pick up on what the blue alien was saying, and it was baffling.

"So you're the Red Lion, huh?" The alien had a masculine voice, and had to crane his neck to peer up at Red. "You're smaller than I thought you'd be. Where's that Galra, though? Pidge said you were empty, but we should probably get out of here before he comes back."

Keith narrowed his eyes as Red's mood spiked with offense. Taking a quick breath, Keith didn't wait to hear any more before he dashed out of his hiding spot to cannon headlong into the alien. The alien let out a satisfying yelp of shock as Keith sent them sprawling, and while Keith's fall was controlled, the alien's most certainly was not. In one smooth motion, Keith rolled back to his feet and sprinted for Red.

"Hey! Get back here!" Keith heard the alien shout behind him. "Pidge, Hunk, I need backup! The Galra's back!"

With a jet-propelled leap, Keith was snatched up in Red's jaws and back in the pilot's seat in record time. Whirling, they leapt for the exit– only to be blocked by _two other lions,_ similar in design to Red but different sizes and different colors. The smaller one was painted green with some sort of shield on its back while the larger one was painted yellow, hulking and even more massive than Keith had ever imagined.

Keith cursed. Pushing the controls, Red exploded out of the cavern and bodily shoved the other two lions aside. Growling, Keith threw them into a sharp climb, making for open space. A screen appeared to show the other two lions in pursuit, and then–

All Keith saw was blue, blocking his field of vision before he and Red were tackled out of the air. They landed hard, skidding across the top of a plateau before Red could get her feet back under her. The third lion– colored like that other alien's armor, and Keith was sensing a pattern here –was larger than Red as well, but not as gigantic as the yellow one was. It pounced, snapping at Red, but Red spat a plasma blast to keep it at a distance. She couldn't back up without walking off the edge of the plateau, and the other three lions had them cornered.

Keith decided that it was time to make a strategic retreat.

Firing off plasma blasts to keep the others at bay, Red blasted straight up to escape the planet's atmosphere within the space of a heartbeat. She was faster than the other lions, Keith realized. Noticeably faster. That was good; Keith was smart enough to admit that he couldn't fight them all at once and hope to win.

Dodging around shots that zipped past by a far too narrow margin for comfort, Keith pushed Red toward the asteroid field that stretched out in the distance. He'd try to lose them in there, and if that didn't work…

Well, he'd figure that out when he had to.

"Come on, come on," Keith urged, willing Red to even greater speeds. Closer, closer, almost– " _Yes!_ "

Out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw the yellow lion drop out of the chase the instant he and Red hit the asteroid field. Doing a roll to avoid another asteroid, he watched as the blue lion attempted to physically knock a nearby asteroid out of the way, but was nearly crushed by the chain reaction that it caused. Smirking when that lion fell back as well, Keith saw that it was only the green one– the smallest –left.

Ahead, there was a cluster of asteroids too close together to fly between. Red used them as stepping stones, leaping from rock to rock and even sprinting up the side of one to slip between a pair before they smashed into each other. Despite her size, Red twisted and spun and blew through the field like it was nothing but open air.

Soon, even the green lion had dropped out of the chase. With fierce satisfaction curling in his gut, Keith waited until they were out of sight completely before he mentally nudged Red, asking her to open up another wormhole– and they were gone.

* * *

Equal parts confused and curious, Keith desperately wanted answers. He had no idea how those aliens had found him, but his initial plan of quietly circling around to the Endonirn System was shot to hell if they could track him. Or was it Red that they were tracking? And how? Neither he nor Red had any bugs on them; Keith had checked.

"Red? Who were those guys?" Keith asked, frowning. They'd had lions as well, clearly designed along similar lines as Red. Maybe they were Red's original owners, and wanted to take her back?

Keith's grip tightened on the controls. Well, they were too late. Red was _his,_ and no strange aliens were going to separate him from her.

His lion purred in agreement. Warmth blazed along their mental connection; a sense of _mine_ and _us_ permeating their bond.

"Thanks, girl." Keith took off his helmet, ears unflattening. "Who _were_ they, though? They knew your name–" he remembered the blue one saying, _So you're the Red Lion, huh?_ as if _Red Lion_ was a title, not a description, and wasn't that interesting, "–and they were flying other lions. Like you, but different colors."

A heavy silence fell. Red seemed… uncertain.

After a long moment, there was a feeling like a resigned sigh, and Red broadcasted a single word: _Voltron._

All the hairs on Keith's neck stood up. Red had never spoken directly to him like that before. Not only that, but the word had seemed to carry a weight to it, a significance, echoing inside his mind. _Voltron, Voltron, Voltron._

Keith swallowed. "What's that?"

Another pause. Keith closed his eyes, and as if that was some sort of signal, Red began to share… memories?

Yes. Memories, Keith realized, as he was made a spectator in a parade of scenes that displayed the other lions fighting together, tearing through ships like so much scrap, combining to form a mechanical giant whose strength was unmatched across the universe. Keith caught fragments of the lions' pilots, all in that color-coded armor, laughing and yelling and battling side by side. Everything was going well, triumph and glory and peace– until things took a decidedly darker turn.

 _Oh,_ Keith realized as he watched armies clash, war descending upon the universe like a vengeful god. _This is– this is the formation of the Galra Empire!_

Voltron's team was ripped apart from the inside, the lions scattered so that Zarkon could never find them. Keith felt Red's pain at the passing of her previous pilot, rage at the oath-breaker who'd cut them down, and then–

The images faded.

"Ten thousand years," Keith breathed. "Oh. _Oh._ " He looked at the dashboard in front of him with new eyes. "No wonder all your systems are in Old Galran. You're _ten thousand years old._ " Keith pressed his back against the seat, staring out at the empty moon outside without really seeing it. "Then, the other lions… they're the rest of Voltron."

Red hummed. She still seemed uncertain, as Keith received flashes of two other aliens in yellow and green armor that appeared to be the same species as the blue one.

"You don't know them," Keith deduced. "Because it's been so long, and they aren't the same pilots that you remember."

Pride suffused their bond. _Smart,_ Red told him.

Keith ran a hand through his hair, trailing claws down his scalp. "Thanks, I guess? Is there any reason you're using words now?"

A flicker of humor. _Could not, before. Now, I stronger._ She showed him an image of the other lions sunning themselves, recharging through solar power. _My Paladin. Our bond grows strong; you hear me now._

Red's mental voice was echoing, layered with a sound like crackling flame. Keith rested his hands on the controls without grasping them, taking in the new information. "So, you can speak to me know because we're more in tune with each other or something?"

Agreement glowed. Keith ducked his head, grinning, happiness coiling in his chest.

Except. Thinking back to the other Voltron Paladins (because that was what they had to be, there wasn't any other explanation), Keith's grin slipped away. "What are we supposed to do about them, though? They want you, not me, and–" Keith had a sudden, horrible thought. "I mean, if you would rather go with them, I can't stop you, and it would be your choice anyway–"

_NO._

The mental growl made Keith shudder right down to his bones, teeth snapping shut. Red's vehemence shocked him. Would she really choose Keith, the half-breed, the runt, over the lions that had been her pride?

 _My Paladin._ There was slightly less force to it that time, the words less deafening. _I will not give you up._

"...Thank you," Keith said, voice full of wonder, and meant it. Red was all he had; without her, he would've been long dead. Giving her up, even if by her own choice, was something that he hadn't wanted to contemplate. To think that she would actually choose _him,_ when nobody else ever had before… "Thank you. _Thank you._ "

Red purred. Keith, despite himself, let out a relieved laugh.

They'd figure out how to deal with the other lions when the need next arose.

* * *

"Okay, what the _quiznak_ was that?" Lance demanded the moment they reached the bridge, pulling off his helmet. "How did that Galra beat all three of us?"

Allura pinched the bridge of her nose. "The Red Lion is the fastest of all the Voltron Lions," she said, terse. "It seems that, whoever that Galra is, he at least knows how to fly."

"No kidding." Hunk crossed his arms. "Did you guys see how he got through that asteroid field? I thought he was gonna crash for sure!"

"Yeah, same." Pidge's brow was furrowed, fingers flashing across holographic keys. "Allura, you said that the lions choose their own paladins, right? Is there any way the Galra could've, I dunno, hacked their way in or anything?"

Allura pursed her lips. "As far as I'm aware, no. But I can't say for sure; technology has certainly changed in the past ten thousand years."

"That guy hits pretty hard, though. I'm going to be bruised for _days,_ " Lance groaned as he rubbed his shoulder. "He's small for a Galra, though. I think he might actually be shorter than me."

Coran blinked. "Really? That's strange. Galra as a whole are significantly taller than Alteans."

"Well, that one wasn't," Lance grimaced. "Came out of _nowhere._ One second I'm standing in front of Red, the next– bam! He was like a ninja or something!"

Allura and Coran both tilted their heads to the side, giving him a quizzical look. "What's a 'ninja'?"

As Lance tried to explain, with gratuitous gesticulation, Shiro turned to Hunk and Pidge. "What do you guys think? This Galra, did Red choose him or did he just steal her somehow?"

Light played across Pidge's glasses. "Well, remember when we kinda accidentally called him? I've been combing through the recording of the video, and I noticed something weird." Said recording was brought up, and Pidge tapped to pause it near the beginning. The frame froze on a comical shot of the Galra's shocked expression, yellow eyes blown wide and part of some sort of greenish bar hanging out of his mouth.

Examining it, Shiro couldn't help but think that the Galra seemed just like a spooked cat, all puffed-out fur and unsheathed claws. Difficult to be scared of, and certainly nothing like the militant Galra soldiers that he'd known. "Pidge? What's the point of this?"

"This is the clearest shot we have of his face before he turns the lights out." Pidge opened a second screen. "Here, I ran a search. Get this: he's a wanted criminal by the Galra Empire. His bounty is millions of GAC, whatever that is. And, as far as I can translate, one of the big things he's wanted for is _theft._ " A smirk. "Gee, I wonder what he stole."

Lance, apparently done with his crash course on ninjas, peered over Pidge's shoulder. "Okay, but that doesn't mean he's Red's _Paladin,_ right? I mean, come on! That guy clearly didn't know what he was doing! Look at how he was mashing buttons everywhere!" Lance tapped the screen to play the recording, and the team watched as the Galra visibly panicked, flailed, and somehow turned the cabin lights off.

Allura paused it. The frame stuck on an image of the lion's cockpit glowing red, the Galra only a dark outline with yellow eyes gleaming. "Be as that may, he was still to pilot the lion well enough to escape from us."

"Yes. If the Galra have truly managed to break into the lions, that would be quite worrying." Coran stroked his mustache. "However… Pidge, let me see that bounty again?"

"Yeah, sure." A few taps brought it up again. "Here."

Coran leaned in close. "It says he's a _traitor._ Interesting."

"Wait, really?" Hunk rubbed the back of his neck. "So, like, he was part of the Empire but went rogue or something?"

"Seems like. I'm not sure how much a GAC is, but this is flagged as a high-priority bounty. The Empire _really_ wants him dead." Coran zoomed in on the image, which appeared like it had been pulled from some sort of ID card. The Galra had a mulish expression, ears flattened and lips half-pulled back in the beginnings of a snarl. Angry cat rather than spooked cat, Shiro thought.

"He might be our only shot, though," Shiro said, tearing his eyes away to address Allura. "He doesn't seem like he's working for Zarkon, and as they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

Allura raised a brow. "That's an… interesting way of seeing things."

"It's an old Earth saying," Shiro replied. "And, at this point, I don't think we have any better choices."

"You do have a point," she conceded. "I'll have to warn you, though. The Red Lion is the most temperamental and volatile of the five; it requires a pilot that relies more on instinct than skill alone. Capturing them will not be easy."

A resigned silence fell.

"Yeah," Lance sighed. "Somehow, I didn't think so."


	3. Give It Your Best Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith gets caught and nobody is all that happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you guys know, I've decided to switch to a Saturday update schedule for the remaining two chapters after this, since that gives me more time to edit. Thank you to everyone to commented, bookmarked, and/or left kudos! You're all amazing, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Warning: there's a (non-graphic) injury introduced in this chapter. I don't think it's too bad, since I tried to keep the fic at a canon-typical level of violence, but if anyone is uncomfortable you can message me on Tumblr and I'll be happy to give you a chapter summary. ^.^
> 
> Edit 8-4-17: as per season 3 canon (only spoils episode 2, though) I changed, like, two words regarding Allura's parentage. Hope nobody minds! ^.^

This was the fifth bounty hunter that Keith had encountered since that price had been set on his head, and Keith was becoming thoroughly pissed off.

Artificial limbs whined. Keith ducked a punch, narrowly avoided a scything kick, and retaliated with a blade-slash to cut straight through exposed wiring. Without further pause, he knocked the bounty hunter away and beat a retreat as hastily as he could, leaving them to manage their deadweight metal legs instead of giving chase. Soon, he was back at the clearing where he'd left Red, no worse for wear except for his irritation.

"Hey, girl. Guess we're moving again." Keith scattered dirt over the last embers of his firepit. "Where do you think we should go next? Quenilon? Avenail? They're pretty remote, out in the middle of nowhere… I think there used to be an Empire base on Avenail, but it was abandoned ages ago because there was no point in maintaining it."

His lion radiated a vague sense of acknowledgement.

Using his jetpack to get up to Red's head, Keith lowered himself through the hatch that opened to land conveniently in the pilot's seat. Red rose to her feet and leapt, the two of them blasting away to find another planet where they hopefully wouldn't be discovered. Again.

Honestly, Keith wasn't holding out much hope anymore.

The Voltron Paladins had tried calling him again several times, but Red always blocked their transmissions. Unfortunately, Red couldn't block whatever method they were using to track him, which meant that Keith still had to keep running. What was more, Zarkon's forces were actively searching for him, which meant he couldn't go near any civilized planets for fear of getting recognized. Bounty hunters had already ambushed him twice, though he'd seen them coming the other three times, and to top it all off, he'd gotten his leg sliced open two fights ago. Keith could still limp around, but he moved slower and was more limited than he was used to. The wound hadn't gotten infected yet, though, and if he was lucky, it would stay that way.

He didn't want to think about the possible consequences if he wasn't.

Red banked to avoid a star. _You okay?_

Keith scrubbed a hand down his face. "I'm fine. Just tired."

An eddy of concern washed over him. _Still hurt._

"I'm _fine._ " Keith stretched out his injured leg, grimacing. "It'll heal."

There was a distinct sense of disapproval. Red sent him an image of a medkit, accompanied by a picture of a semi-translucent gel. _Faster, use medicine._

Keith shook his head. "No, I want to save that for if something serious happens."

Another disapproving spike.

Keith let go of the controls, trusting his lion to know where to go. "C'mon, Red. It's just a scratch."

Red passed him a memory of himself, limping down to the cargo bay to grab a medkit. She followed it up with a memory of how he had cursed as he cleaned and dressed the bleeding gash in his skin, angry at himself for being so careless. _Not just 'scratch.'_

Wincing, Keith still tried to protest. "It's healing perfectly fine on its own. I'll even keep off of it for a while if you really want; we have enough supplies that I can stay inside for a bit."

Red signaled her approval of that idea with a happy purr.

Keith snorted. "You're really bossy, you know that? I– whoa!" he grabbed for the controls as Red threw them into an abrupt swerve, purposefully jostling Keith. "Hey!"

Amusement, warm and curling. She was definitely laughing at him.

"Not funny," Keith grumbled.

Red disagreed. _Very funny._

Keith huffed, but they fell into an easy silence after that.

Keith tipped his head back, sliding down a bit in his seat. Offhand, he wondered how long they could keep it up. They'd gotten lucky so far, staying out of the hands of the many groups pursuing them, but… it couldn't last. They couldn't run forever. But, at the same time, they couldn't stand their ground and fight, either. Keith wanted to, of course, but even he could admit that it would've been a stupid move.

The problem was that Keith had too many enemies and not nearly enough allies; he couldn't risk trying to get in touch with his mother's contacts without first verifying that they wouldn't sell him out. His mother herself was nowhere to be found, and he couldn't even go near where she'd last been seen for fear of leading his enemies right to her.

She would _not_ have been pleased by that.

Sighing, with no immediate answers in sight, Keith resolved to deal with the issue the same way he dealt with all his problems– later, when the time came.

After all, there wasn't much else he _could_ do.

* * *

Quenilon was not as empty as Keith had hoped.

_Should've picked Avenail,_ Keith thought, keeping his hood up and his head down. The Empire's base on Quenilon was extremely new, not even fully completed yet, and what was probably why Keith hadn't heard of the Empire taking over the planet earlier. At Red's insistence, Keith had ventured into town to replenish medical supplies, but when he'd arrived, it was to find soldiers patrolling the streets and the everyone else slinking about in fear.

Well. At least in that sense, Keith was blending in.

_This was a bad idea._ Keith's clenched his jaw so tight he thought his teeth might crack, hair-trigger nerves jumping every time a soldier brushed too close. _This was a really,_ really _bad idea._

At least the shopkeeper was more focused on watching the guards than Keith. Getting what he needed was easy, and it didn't take long before Keith was heading back with the intent of getting out of there as fast as Red could fly.

Except–

"Get on your knees!"

For a moment, Keith almost thought the soldier was talking to him, but when he turned, they were addressing someone else entirely.

"You were planning to sabotage the construction of the base," the soldier accused. The tip of his blaster glowed magenta, powered up and ready to fire. His tone grew dark, low and angry. "I'll show you what happens to rebels in the Empire."

Keith was too far away to intervene. He could only watch, helpless, as the young alien flinched back– the soldier fired–

" _NO!_ "

The shot grazed the alien's cheek, prompting a reflexive cry, but it wasn't a killing blow. A second alien had knocked the soldier aside, slightly smaller than the first with yellow-cream skin rather than pale orange. There was a brief scuffle, and for half a beat Keith believed that the newcomer would win. But the soldier was larger and stronger, quickly overpowering the other alien. He snarled, pinning the alien down, bringing his blaster to bear– and Keith couldn't watch any longer.

Keith didn't know when he'd moved forward, close enough to interfere, but he was just thankful that it was near enough to dart in and yank the blaster away. Despite how his injured leg flared up in protest, it was worth it as he backpedaled out of reach. Muscle memory had the standard-issue Empire blaster leveled at the soldier's head within a heartbeat, even though he hadn't shot one since he'd deserted.

The soldier whirled, going abruptly still when he found the barrel of his own weapon pointed at his face. Keith couldn't see his eyes beneath the helmet, but from the tenseness of his jaw, he was nervous. And angry, but not enough to do anything stupid, so Keith figured he was safe. For the moment, at least.

Keith jerked his head at the open street. "Go!" he snapped at the original two victims, who barely hesitated before scrambling away.

As they did so, however, the first one slowed, glancing back to stare at Keith– no, at Keith's _eyes_. "You're _Galra,_ " xe said, sounding utterly bewildered.

Keith snarled at xem. "So? Get out of here, idiot!"

The alien didn't need telling twice. With one last confused look, xe vanished into the crowd after xeir companion, hopefully to safety.

The soldier, pinned in place, bared his teeth. " _Traitor,_ " he spat, hands curling into claws.

Behind Keith, there was a clatter of armor. Keith swore, knowing that it was more guards coming as reinforcements. And since his leg wasn't up to its usual acrobatics…

In two deft moves, Keith shot out the guard's kneecaps before turning to flee. The crowd parted for him, some scrambling to get out of his way as he kept the blaster half-cocked. The soldiers behind him shouted, a couple blasts flying over the heads of the crowd, but Keith used his size to his advantage and kept low. The native species on this planet was at least a head shorter than the average Galra, which wasn't too far off from his own height. Honestly, Keith had never realized that the genetics that had made him so undesirable in the Empire's army would be so handy when he was running from it.

Normally, Keith might've taken to the rooftops– they were fairly wide and flat here, not all that difficult to reach –but he didn't think his leg would be able to manage the jumps. Already, he was gritting his teeth against the pain that burned white-hot and was pushing through it with stubbornness and willpower.

It wasn't too long before Keith made it to where he'd stashed his transport, a streamlined bike that had been in Red's cargo bay. Swinging aboard, Keith nearly laughed as he gunned the engine and took off to leave the guards in the dust. Just in case, though, Keith didn't go directly back to Red, instead taking the time to circle around to throw off anyone who tried to follow him.

When he got back, leg throbbing to worsen his limp, the impression he got from his lion was one of bemusement tinged with exasperation.

"What did you want me to do, just let him kill them both?" Keith grumbled as he changed the dressing on his leg, wincing at the sight of the reopened gash. "I mean, that's what would've happened if I hadn't stepped in."

_No. Foolish cub, could have handled situation better._

Keith paused. "Did you just call me _cub?_ " He hadn't been called that in… well, he hadn't been called that in a very long time. It was strange, hearing the word come from Red.

Red did not acknowledge his question. _Still injured. Better to shoot guard from distance, not get so close._

Keith wadded up the used dressing and bandages to burn later. "Yeah, but that would only work if I had a blaster."

_Then get one._

"I just did." Keith glanced at the guard's weapon, which he'd brought with him into the cockpit. It only had maybe half of its charge left, but that would do until he could get something better.

_A better one._ Her disdain for the blaster was clear. Keith couldn't exactly disagree, not when the Empire's symbol was emblazoned on its side, mocking him.

"...Fine." Keith hauled himself to his feet, pleased when he barely wobbled. "With my luck, I'm going to walk into three more bounty hunters the moment I step foot in town, but sure."

_Insolent cub,_ Red sighed, but there was no heat in it.

Keith rolled his eyes. "Hey, don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

_Ow._

Keith wheezed, claws scrabbling for purchase on slick armor. Finding a chink, he dug them in deep to elicit a yowl of pain. The pressure on his chest eased, allowing Keith to breathe again. He threw the bounty hunter off of him and rolled to his feet, scrambling back to avoid the tail that whipped for his head. Keith had already emptied his stolen blaster's charge, so it was useful only as a blunt weapon that he threw at the bounty hunter's head. By some stroke of luck, the impact hit exactly the right spot to knock them out cold and send them crumpling to the ground.

"Vannek," Keith gasped, leaning against a wall as his leg expressed its intense displeasure. _How do I always get myself into these situations?_

At least he had more weapons now. Keith stripped the bounty hunter of anything useful before dumping them in an alley, which included a small armory and a decent amount of money. Staggering away as quickly as he could, Keith tried not to limp too obviously so as to present himself as less of a target. His leg had only been getting worse instead of better, what with how he kept reopening it in fights. He half-expected to wake up and find it infected any day now.

When Keith made it back to Red, the first thing he said was, "I told you so."

Her tail lashed. She was not nearly as amused as she had been before.

"You know, maybe we should avoid settlements entirely for a while," Keith suggested as he approached. "I always–"

His next words were cut off when, out of nowhere, something invisible slammed down between him and his lion. With a startled yelp, Keith jerked back, watching as four craters formed and a faintly rippling distortion in the air blocked him from Red. It solidified into the shape of the Green Lion, glaring down at him as the other two descended from the sky to surround him.

Keith groaned. "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Alarm flared along his connection with Red. _Cub!_

Keith fell into a defensive crouch. The lions were large, yes, that also meant that they couldn't all attack him without running into each other. If he could move fast enough to slip past them–

A dark shadow fell over the clearing. Keith looked up, heart plummeting when he saw a massive white ship hovering above them. Well, that was going to make things more difficult.

A speaker clicked on. " _Pilot of the Red Lion, this is Princess Allura of Altea. Surrender, and you will not be hurt,_ " spoke a feminine voice in an accent that Keith had never heard before.

Keith snorted at that. Yeah, right. Keith drew his dagger, ready for a fight.

In the back of his mind, Red perked up. _Allura? Altea?_

Keith paused. "What, do you know her or something?"

Hesitance. And perhaps… hope? Red sent him fragments of a young woman with dark skin and white hair, pink markings curving beneath her eyes and a circlet on her forehead. _We knew her. Princess, my first paladin's cub._ A pause. _Ten thousand years. She's alive?_

Warning flags prickled at that, and Keith frowned. "No way. It's got to be some sort of trap."

_...Perhaps not,_ Red suggested. _Truth?_

"What, are you saying I should give myself up on the off-chance this princess somehow survived for ten thousand years without getting caught by Zarkon? I don't trust that." Keith didn't lower his blade, poised to move at the first sign of attack.

_No. She's_ _ **alive.**_ Red's surprise was nearly palpable. _I sense her quintessence!_

Keith stopped. "What?" He didn't drop his guard, but it eased a fraction– and that was his mistake.

Instinct made him whirl around, just in time to deflect the glowing fist aimed for his face. Stumbling back, Keith bared his teeth at the newcomer. Black and white armor, arm glowing a sinister mauve, significantly taller than him–

Keith swore. Heavily, loudly, and violently enough that he probably would've gotten disciplined even in the army where everyone cussed like their vocabularies depended on it. Because that was the _Champion,_ and he'd heard all the infamous stories. That was the Champion, who had no mercy, who'd battled his way through Zarkon's gladiators and always come out on top. The Champion, who had been a prisoner of the Empire, and since when had he escaped?

Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe this was all a trap after all.

The Champion dashed forward, shockingly quick. Keith was a hair too slow to react, didn't realize the arm was a feint until an armor-clad leg impacted Keith's side with all the force of a stampeding elkonar. Keith was sent sprawling, but turned it into a roll at the last moment with claws digging into the ground to shed momentum. Lunging, he and the Champion exchanged clashing blows. Keith was hampered by his injured leg, though, and–

Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it wasn't. However it happened, Keith wasn't fast enough to dodge and the Champion hit his wounded leg _hard._

With a pained scream, Keith crumpled. Lightning scorched up his leg as his dagger dropped from nerveless fingers. Dimly, he felt Red _roar,_ furious and thundering and–

Keith blacked out.

* * *

Panting, Shiro stared down at the unconscious Galra and let his arm deactivate. That had been… unexpected.

A little ways off, the Red Lion thrashed beneath the other three lions that had it pinned down. The ground shook like they were in an earthquake, enraged snarls resounded, and the Red Lion's thrashing tail took out a swathe of forest in a single sweep.

" _Guys, I don't know if we can keep this up. It seems_ really _mad,_ " Hunk said over the comms, uneasy. Yellow's greater size and weight held Red down, but if the largest lion was dislodged somehow…

" _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea,_ " Lance grunted as teeth shrieked down Blue's side. " _Red does not look happy with us._ "

Shiro crouched, checking the Galra's pulse. It fluttered beneath his fingers, steady and more rapid than he expected. He cast an assessing look over the smaller alien. The Galra was lean, rather dirty, and, if he was judging things right, probably around the same age as Lance or Hunk. Shiro wasn't sure; he didn't know if Galra aged differently from humans or not. On the ground beside them was their dagger, blade gleaming in the light. Shiro picked it up and tucked it away in a storage compartment, wondering a bit at why there was a cloth wrapped around the base of the blade.

More importantly, though…

The Galra's pants were black, but there was a suspicious shine to them that prompted Shiro to reach out (with his prosthetic, not his flesh hand; who knew if it was acidic or toxic to humans) and gingerly prod it. The black of his hand prevented him from making out anything more than the fact that it was definitely liquid, but a small swipe across the white of his armor confirmed his fears. It was blood.

"He's hurt," Shiro realized. " _That's_ why he went down so fast when I hit him there."

The Red Lion redoubled her struggles. Shiro glanced up at her, all of a sudden feeling horribly guilty.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't– I didn't know."

Red growled at him, a sound so deep and resonant that it made his very bones vibrate. Shiro flinched. Yeah, that had sounded fake even to him.

" _Bring him back to the Castle,_ " Allura instructed in his ear. " _I'll try and talk the Red Lion down._ "

Shiro had no idea how Allura planned to talk down an angry Voltron Lion, much less the one that was infamous for being the most temperamental of them all, but he replied his assent and moved to pick up the Galra anyway. The Galra was fairly heavy, but not overwhelmingly so, and Shiro could feel the sharp edges that spoke of muscle over bone but little else. If he had to guess, he'd say that the Galra was eating just enough to stay healthy but no more.

The thought was strangely sobering. Over the time that had spent chasing him down, the team had gotten used to the idea of having a Galra as the Red Paladin, especially once it became clear that Red had chosen him and wasn't about to let go. They hadn't considered, though, that the Galra might've been as desperate as they themselves were becoming. But, then again, perhaps they should've expected that. After all, the team had seen the bounty. They'd run into a bounty hunter or two on the same mission as them, but for different reasons, before. And with the full power of Zarkon's fleets bent on hunting the Galra down, at least when Zarkon wasn't focusing on Voltron instead…

Huh. Maybe that was why the ambush had seemed too easy. The Galra had been worn out and injured while the rest of them had the advantage of numbers and a decent amount of rest. No wonder they'd gotten the drop on him.

Meanwhile, whatever Allura was telling the Red Lion seemed to have worked. The other three lions backed off, somewhat reluctantly, but the Red Lion's growls had subsided to mere discontented rumbles and it didn't appear nearly as hostile as before. Good. The last thing they needed to deal with was the Red Lion trying to attack the Castle, or the other lions again.

It wasn't long before Coran dropped down in a shuttle to pick up Shiro and the Galra, armed with both restraints and some sort of scanner thing that he used to examine the wound. Coran didn't even pause when they reached the Castle, peering at the Galra and pressing buttons as Shiro carried him to the medbay. It was adjacent to the room with the healing pods, half a step away from an Earth hospital room with white cots and sterile machinery adorning the walls.

"All things considered, that injury surprisingly well taken care of," Coran muttered, squinting at the text that scrolled up the scanner's screen. "Not infected, but it appears to have been reopened several times. Blood loss might be an issue, but we can handle that easily."

Shiro shifted on his feet, uncertain of what to do. He wasn't sure why he was so concerned. Latent guilt, maybe. "So, he'll be fine?"

"Mm, most likely," Coran confirmed with a cheery thumbs-up. "He'll need to stay off that leg for a bit if he wants it to heal quickly, but other than that he shouldn't have any problems."

The doors hissed open. Allura swept in, followed by Lance, Hunk, and Pidge. "Coran? What's the verdict?"

Coran turned to her. "He's fairly young, moderately healthy, though a bit malnourished and weakened from blood loss. That's a nasty gash he's got, but it should heal with no problems."

"Hm." Allura walked over to the side of the bed, scrutinizing the Galra. "You think he's trustworthy?"

Coran shrugged. "Can't say for sure right now, Princess. We'll have to wait until he's awake and see."

"Yes," Allura echoed. "I suppose we'll see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title for this chapter is from the song [Get Off Of My Back](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wbhs1S3OA-k) by Bryan Adams from the movie _Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron._ The clip of this song from the movie is [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JD446jZ-W7w). It's a pretty cool clip just on it's own, and I definitely recommend seeing it (as well as the movie as a whole) if you haven't already. ^.^


	4. Don't Push Me (I'll Fight It)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith has misadventures in vents and there are general misunderstandings all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter, guys! This one's the longest, I think, a bit over 5K. Thank you to everyone who left comments or kudos, and enjoy the chapter! ^.^

Keith woke up.

That in itself was unexpected. Keith wasn't dead, which was good, but on the other hand, he clearly wasn't in Red either, which was bad. Except, his surroundings were… soft?

Keith shifted experimentally. A mattress, he realized. He was lying on a mattress, with sheets and everything. There was even a _pillow._

...What the _vannek_ was going on?

Metal clinked. After a tick, Keith realized that he was cuffed to the bed's railing, which, okay. That meant that he'd been captured. No surprise there; the last thing he remembered was getting cornered by the other lions and fighting the Champion.

Keith opened his eyes. The room was empty, though he didn't doubt they were watching him. Assessing the room, he spied his boots, belt, and pack on the floor next to his bed with his coat folded on top of the pack. No armor, but it was still more than he'd expected. It seemed his captors were sloppy, but that worked to his advantage. If he could just reach the boots…

It took some contortions, but Keith managed to grab hold of what he needed before anyone came to check on him. He had no idea why he wasn't dead yet, but he wasn't about to stick around and wait for them to change their minds.

Picking the lock on the cuffs was relatively easy once he had his kit. Keith could believe what Red had been saying about the Castle and everything being ten thousand years old now; he'd had more difficult times breaking into food storage containers in the army. There wasn't even a biometric component to the cuffs, which Keith was glad for. It wasn't like he couldn't get around those, necessarily, but it took a lot longer.

There was no sign of his lion, but he could feel that Red was relatively close by, so all he needed to do was get to her.

_Red?_ Keith called experimentally, unsure if Red could even hear him. He hoped that the low buzz of distress in the back of his mind wasn't anything serious. If they'd injured Red… well. His lips peeled back in a soundless snarl. He'd go for the throat of their leader, and Marmora help any who got in his way.

_Cub!_ Surprise, hope, happiness spiked all at once. _You awake!_

_How are you?_ Keith asked, grinning when a connection in his mind that had been embers sparked into a bonfire. _Are you hurt?_

_I'm fine,_ came Red's swift reply. _In hangar. Where you?_

Keith sagged in relief. Oh, thank the gods. She was okay. _Not sure where I am,_ he said. _Looks like a medbay?_

_I cannot guide you,_ Red admitted after a moment, not sounding very pleased. There was a considering hum. _Layout changed; I saw some places locked down. My solar charge almost gone. Cannot access Castle systems._

_...So I'm on my own,_ Keith sighed.

In his mind's eye, Red's tail flicked with irritation. _For now. New pilots… not evil. Just untested. Untrained. Their bonds still young, growing._ A flare of smug satisfaction. _Their lions cannot help them. Not as well as I._

Keith snorted, but something close to hope curled heat around his chest. _Not evil,_ he repeated, wondering at the implications of that. _Then. Should I join them? You said, before, that Voltron needed all five of the lions. All five paladins. They only have three._

Red fell silent. _Perhaps. They have… potential. Much of it._ A low growl built phantom rumbles in Keith's throat. _But. They hurt you._

As if in agreement, Keith's leg twinged. _Yeah. That's true. But we can't hide forever._

_...He did apologize._

Keith blinked. _What? Who apologized?_

_Champion. He apologized._ Red's mental voice had an odd note to it, as if she wasn't quite sure what to make of that. _He regretted._

Keith took in a deep, steadying breath. _Seriously?_

_Yes._ Red sent him a blurry image, the Champion standing over Keith's crumpled form with a smear of blood on his armor and face slack with surprise. He looked up, straight into Red's eyes, and–

" _I'm sorry. I didn't– I didn't know."_

...Huh.

Keith's hands twisted in his shirt. That– that changed things. Maybe not a lot, but enough. He'd escape first, he decided, but after that–

After that, maybe he'd send a message. Contact them on his own terms. He'd take precautions, of course, and there was no way he'd meet them in person anytime soon, but…

Well. He'd figure out the details when the time came.

_Sound like a plan?_ Keith asked, because if Red thought it was a bad idea, then he would get them out as fast as possible to disappear into the deepest hole he could find. It wouldn't be easy, but he could do it. Probably.

Red purred her assent, and Keith let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Guess they had a plan.

Giving a sharp nod, even though Red couldn't see it, Keith turned back to his more immediate problems. He grabbed his stuff while he checked the time; it was the middle of a standard night cycle, which was probably why nobody else had shown up to stop him yet. They were probably asleep, or close to it. Good, one less thing for Keith to worry about. As for an escape route…

Keith found what he had hoped for and grinned. Perfect.

* * *

" _Everyone, to the bridge! We have a problem!_ "

One by one, the denizens of the Castle stumbled onto the bridge in various states of wakefulness. Allura might have felt bad for dragging them out of bed if they hadn't had such an urgent problem. As it was, she rather wished she could go back to sleep herself.

"What is it?" Shiro was tired, bags under his eyes as he covered a yawn with one hand. "What's wrong?"

Allura pulled up an alert. "The Galra escaped."

That snapped them awake. "Wait, what?"

The screen flashed a crimson warning. "Coran and I were alerted when the cuffs were opened," Allura explained. "Coran went to go check, since sometimes that particular piece of technology can send out false alarms if it hasn't had maintenance in a while, but when he got there, the Galra was gone. Now he's loose somewhere in the Castle and we have to find him."

Pidge groaned. "Great. Any ideas on where he is?"

Coran pulled up a second screen, this one showing a maze-like map of interlocking pipes with a glowing purple dot in one of them. "Well, we scanned the Castle for Galra biosignatures, and as far as we can tell… he's in the vents."

There was a pause as everybody looked up at the ceiling as one.

Hunk frowned. "Okay, sorry if this is a dumb question, but like… why do you even have vents big enough to fit a person anyway? Isn't that kind of silly?"

"I'll have you know it was quite fashionable to use the vents as secret passageways in my grandfather's time!" Coran sputtered. "And besides, they worked quite well for species that would rather not risk getting stepped on as they traversed the halls."

"Of course they did." Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can you seal the vents in any way? Lock him out or something?"

"Unfortunately, that would require putting the entire Castle in full lockdown." Coran typed a few words, then deleted them when they appeared to have no effect. "And if the Castle's on lockdown, that means that we can't go anywhere either."

"Which is bad," Lance said. "So, what are we supposed to do?"

"Well," Allura said, "there's nothing else for it. You're going to have to go out there and flush him out."

Lance threw up his hands. " _How?_ "

"I'm sure you'll figure it out! Think of it as a team bonding exercise!"

"...That is not helpful."

* * *

Keith was very, very frustrated.

Keith was also very, very lost.

Grinding his teeth, he sat hunched over in a junction between two tunnels, giving his leg a rest. Dust coated him in a layer of grime, his knees ached from how he'd been crawling around, and he was getting thoroughly sick of the way his claws made ear-splitting screeches whenever they scraped across the inside of the vents. Fingerless gloves were useful when he wanted to sink claws into someone's face, yes, but in this sort of situation, he wished he'd gone for a pair that covered his hands completely instead.

Keith wanted to hit something. He didn't, because that would've been counterproductive to his goal of not getting caught and thus not dying, but he still wanted to. Instead, he leaned back, metal cool against the back of his head, and counted his breaths.

In his mind, Red brushed reassurance. _Do not give up, Cub._

_I know,_ Keith said. _I can do this._

Footsteps sounded outside. A single ear flicked, picking up the distant sounds. Only one set, he thought. Slow, almost hesitant. As it drew nearer, he began to pick out a quiet voice, talking to itself.

"So, the map says he's close." It was the blue one, the one who'd first discovered him back on that desert planet. "End of the hallway… damn, gotta find a vent cover."

They had maps. They were tracking him. Keith had to move, and quickly.

The footsteps came closer. Keith picked a tunnel that seemed vaguely like it would lead in the opposite direction and started crawling. It was more of an awkward shuffle than anything else, but it worked.

At least, it worked right up until Keith ran into a dead end.

Keith stared at the grate. Through it, a startled-looking alien with orange hair stared back. The vent was too narrow for him to turn around comfortably, so he began to back away– but the other alien was fast, yanking out the vent cover and reaching in.

Hissing, Keith backpedaled with more urgency. The orange-haired alien grunted, swiping for him, but Keith managed to get out of range just in time and turn into a smaller tunnel that branched out from the larger ones he'd been following. Behind him, he could hear the alien's fading curses, echoing through the enclosed space. He had the same odd accent as the supposed princess had, which Keith still couldn't recognize.

Before long, Keith encountered a hole. Literally. Right in the middle of the tunnel, a second ventilation shaft dropped straight down. Cautiously peering over the edge, Keith discerned dim lights and picked up the gentle hum of machinery. In the very corner of what he could see was a structure that looked like it might have been a control terminal of some sort. Had he stumbled across the control room? That would've been convenient. If he could get into their systems, maybe he could use it to find where they'd stashed Red, or even overtake the Castle itself.

Keith leaned out a bit further, gauging distance. The drop wasn't too bad. It would probably hurt, but if he could somehow brace himself along the sides of the vent shaft to have a controlled slide down rather than a straight drop…

_Cub,_ Red growled, _don't you dare!_

The vents vibrated. Distant reverberations sounded, closing in on his position. There was somebody else in the vents with him.

No time to think. Keith turned to lower himself through the gap and then slid down, kicking out the vent cover with his good leg. He cringed when it hit the floor below with an obnoxiously loud clatter, but there was nothing he could really do about that. Sparing a moment to wish futilely for his armor with its exceedingly helpful jetpack, Keith sucked in a breath and dropped.

_Ow._

Even though he'd rolled instead of trying to fully absorb the impact, Keith's leg was still very much not pleased with him. Grimacing, he forced himself to stagger to his feet and make his way to what he hoped was a control terminal, his limp significantly worse than before.

In the back of his mind, Red snarled, and Keith winced. _Sorry. Didn't have any other choice._

With a soft growl, Red subsided. _I know._

When he reached the panel, though, Keith realized that he had a problem. He didn't recognize any of the strange symbols and characters that were on it. The language was completely unknown. Of _course._

Keith wanted to bang his head against the terminal. "Ugh. Just my luck."

In lieu of any better ideas, he started randomly pressing things and hoping that what he wanted would miraculously happen. It didn't, of course, because the universe just liked to laugh at him.

"Hey!"

The green-armored alien descended from the vent. Keith frowned. Figured that _they_ would have armor with jetpacks and everything. Keith's ankles were still throbbing.

The green alien advanced. Keith automatically went for his dagger, but–

Nothing. No dagger. Just an empty sheath, and the bottom dropped out of Keith's gut. No, no, _no._ Not his dagger. Not his _mother's_ dagger, the one thing of his childhood that he'd actually managed to hold on to. Not that. It couldn't be gone.

Except it was, and Keith had to pull out the smaller blade he kept hidden in his boot as a substitute. The green alien leapt with a yell, some sort of glowing green weapon clenched in one hand. Keith retreated to stay out of range– that looked like a close-combat weapon, not a distance one–

–Or not.

A cord whipped around his legs. The green alien yanked Keith's feet out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. He barely managed to roll back upright and grab the control terminal before the green alien yanked a second time, forcing Keith to support his entire body weight with his arms. It was a strikingly familiar scenario, with Keith holding on for dear life and–

Wait. A familiar scenario. It would probably be a pretty stupid move, since he had no idea what this would do to the Castle itself, but he didn't have any better options. And Red wouldn't be conveniently there to save him like before, but…

Well, no point in taking a lifetime to debate the possible consequences. Keith shifted his weight to one arm, raised his dagger high, and blindly stabbed down.

The lights turned off.

Literally nothing else happened, except that the _lights_ turned off. Keith wanted to scream in frustration. Seriously? _Seriously?_

At least it distracted his opponent long enough for Keith to work his legs free and make a run for it. If the furious cursing was any indication, whatever species these aliens were didn't have very good night vision. Interesting; Keith could use that to his advantage. Maybe turning out the lights had helped more than he thought it would.

The door opened automatically once Keith was close enough, which, sloppy, but it was good for him. These aliens' security needed work, but he wasn't about to stop and give them tips. His eyes adjusted to the darkness relatively easily, so he once he judged himself to be far enough away, he slowed to a more stealthy slink as he stuck close to the shadows and the walls. All the vent covers nearby were too high up for him to get at, not with his leg in the state it was, but if he kept wandering around long enough he'd probably find a way to get back in.

Hopefully, anyway. Despite the green alien being small enough to go in there after him, he didn't think any of the others could, which made the vents a lot safer than the open halls. Keith needed to get back in there as soon as he could.

* * *

When the lights went out, Lance jumped, might have let slip a high _eek!_ sound, and pressed himself up against the wall. "What was that?!"

Inside their helmets, the comms clicked on. " _Stupid Galra stabbed the control terminal,_ " Pidge snapped. " _Ugh! I almost had him!_ "

" _Wait, what?_ " Shiro sounded alarmed. " _He stabbed the control panel?_ "

" _Yeah._ " Pidge grunted, and they heard a muffled curse. " _The damage looks bad, but I can't make heads or tails of any of this stuff. Coran–_ "

" _Already heading down, Pidge! Just hold on a few ticks!_ "

Allura sighed. " _The rest of you, keep looking. We've got to catch him eventually. Your helmets should have night vision equipped, but in the meantime, we'll try to get the lights back up as soon as possible._ "

Right on clue, the visor of his helmet flickered, switching to the green tint that Lance associated with night vision. Huh. Looked like Altean eyes worked basically the same as human eyes. Lance immediately felt better; even if he couldn't see things in great detail, it was still better than pitch darkness.

Or, well. He felt better right up until he turned a corner and was met with a dark shape materializing out of the shadows, glowing yellow eyes and glinting fangs bared. Lance screamed, leapt back, tripped over his own feet, and went down in a tangled heap of limbs. As that happened, he fired off a couple shots on instinct, but they all went wide, splattering across the walls. The Galra was a mere silhouette, darting towards him and–

–continuing past him.

Lance watched the Galra disappear down a side corridor, followed by the sound of metal screeching as a vent cover was forcibly wrenched free.

"...Holy _quiznak,_ " Lance wheezed after a beat of silence. His heart was rabbiting in his chest, a fast-paced tempo that made him dizzy. "Why is he so small? Galra are supposed to be big and easily spotted, not wicked fast tiny purple things who can hide in the vents and jump out at you and WHEN DID THIS TURN INTO A REAL LIFE RENDITION OF ALIEN IS WHAT I'M ASKING–"

" _Lance, keep your voice down!_ " Shiro hissed in his ear. " _I think I'm close–_ "

There was a pop, a buzz, and the holographic map projecting from Lance's wrist fizzled out.

"...Uh." Lance poked at it. No response. "That's not good."

" _Allura? Coran? What happened?_ " Hunk was confused, a slight quaver to his voice that spoke of badly-concealed fear. " _The map's gone._ "

" _Mine too._ " Shiro exhaled, a long, low sound of reined-in frustration. " _Can't tell where he is anymore. I lost him._ "

" _Um._ " Pidge sounded decidedly sheepish. " _That might've been my fault. Sorry, guys._ "

Coran cut in, enthusiasm hardly dampered. " _Don't worry, we'll get it fixed in just a tick! In the meantime, just keep looking. He can't hide forever._ "

Lance peered around the corridor that the Galra had disappeared down. Inching forward, he sidled along the wall with his bayard at the ready. "I don't know, he seems to be giving it a pretty good try." Lance shivered, the afterimage of those gleaming eyes burned into his retinas. " _Damn,_ that was scary."

Pidge snorted. " _Chicken._ "

* * *

Shiro cursed under his breath when his map vanished with a static crackle. He'd been so close-!

Distantly, there was a noise like a scuffed footstep.

Taking care to move as silently as possible, Shiro crept forward. He could feel the energy coiled tight in his arm, ready to activate at any hint of danger. The prosthetic was like a hurricane in a bottle, all that raw power just barely leashed. Some days, he feared it. Others, he was grateful for it.

Shiro wasn't sure what kind of day this was yet.

Stepping around a corner, Shiro suppressed a cringe at the sharp sound of his boot meeting the floor a little too hard. Around him, the Castle was silent but for the soft hum of machinery. Ahead, all noise had stilled. Shiro didn't move, breaths coming shallow, straining to hear. It felt like there was some sort of deadlock between them– because he knew the Galra had to be just up ahead –and neither wanted to be the one to make the first move.

Abruptly, there was a snarl, bordering on inhuman as rushing footsteps pounded. Shiro had a millisecond to brace himself before all he could see was yellow eyes and violet, lunging out of the darkness with a thin blade leading.

Arm coming to life, Shiro knocked the dagger aside and ducked back to avoid the claws that swiped for his visor. For a moment, it was just like being back in the arena, the phantom scent of alien blood in his nose and sweat slippery on his skin and–

By the time Shiro came back to himself, memories sliding away, he realized that he had his back pressed against the wall and his breathing had grown ragged at the edges. The Galra was gone, leaving him alone in the corridor.

Shiro closed his eyes and sighed.

* * *

Allura was angry.

This was _her_ Castle, _her_ ship. This was one of the last things she had left of Altea, built by Coran's grandfather, and she would _not_ have some Galra running around destroying it!

Stalking down the halls, Allura tracked the Galra as best she could, feet treading well-known paths that she was still unused to being so empty. In her time, the Castle had always been full of people, never so quiet and never so bare. Now, its cavernous rooms groaned with disuse, ghosts lingering in dark corners to fade away whenever she drew near. The new Paladins of Voltron had brought some life to it, but it wasn't enough. They were only four young humans, after all, and they could not replace the tens and sometimes hundreds of beings that the Castle had been accustomed to hosting.

That time was gone, though. She had to live in the present if she was ever going to help defeat Zarkon.

The maps were down, leaving her no way to follow the Galra directly, but that was fine. She knew the Castle like the back of her hand, and if he was still following the path she suspected he would follow…

A lean shape darted out of an adjacent hallway, and Allura _moved._

Her fist connected with the Galra's jaw, sending him sprawling. He clearly hadn't expected it from his colorful language, scrambling for his feet. Allura had caught him by surprise; that would give her the advantage. She also stood in front of the nearest and most accessible vent cover, and she knew that one end of the hall they were in was locked to those without special access while the other end would run right into where Lance was.

From his wary expression, the Galra knew that as well.

They sized each other up. The Galra was favoring his wounded leg, so Allura could probably take him down, but he had proven surprisingly slippery before. He was still quick, still nimble. She was stronger, she knew that, but was he faster?

It seemed that they would find out.

Lips curled up in a sardonic smirk. "I don't suppose you'll move out of my way?"

Despite herself, Allura barked a sharp laugh. His accent was different than what she'd been accustomed to, but his steel tone was something she was far more familiar with. "Nice try, but no."

"Figures," the Galra said, and attacked.

His fighting style was unlike any other Galra soldier that Allura had ever faced. To be fair, he was a good two heads shorter than most of them, smaller and faster than most even with his wounded leg. He went for quick, powerful strikes, darting in and withdrawing before he could take another hit. His weapon flashed with deadly precision, every movement deft with the ease of long practice. He clearly knew what he was doing.

The Galra slashed at her and Allura spun away, a short baton whirling in her hands. The corridor was a bit too narrow for her to wield her staff comfortably, but she would make do. Coming back around, she lashed out–

–and realized that he had deliberately herded her away from the vent cover. The vent cover that was gone, and she barely had time to snatch at his disappearing ankle before it vanished down the tunnel.

Allura groaned. Stupid, stupid, _stupid._ He'd tricked her, and she had fallen for it.

_Quiznak._

* * *

Keith's nose twitched. His stomach gurgled.

_...Food?_

Keith had rations tucked away in his pack, but those were his emergency stash and he'd rather not dip into those if he could help it. Still, he'd been crawling around in the vents for a while, emerging occasionally to throw his pursuers off the trail or climb into a different section of the vents. The other aliens really weren't all that coordinated, Keith realized, a freshly-created team rather than a seasoned one. Well, he supposed that made sense. He would've heard of them if they'd been around before.

Keith lay on his stomach, eyes narrowed to thin slits. The scent of food was getting stronger, oddly reminiscent of his old mess hall meals. Despite that, it was still far more appealing than the prospect of ration bars yet again. As if in reminder, his gut gave him another hungry grumble.

Making an impulsive decision, Keith changed course. He couldn't hear anybody else nearby, and the lights still hadn't come back on, so he was probably safe in investigating. Red gave the mental equivalent of a sigh but did not protest, which he took as tacit agreement.

Sure enough, Keith followed his nose to discover a fully-stocked kitchen, recently used if the plates in the sink were anything to go by. Keith didn't knock out the vent cover like he half wanted to, instead taking the time to carefully remove it in complete silence. Sliding out, Keith headed straight for the cupboards, aiming for non-perishables that he could easily hide in his small pack.

The doors swung open on silent hinges. Biting back a sigh when he saw that everything was labeled in that same strange language as before, Keith set to work bringing things down and cautiously opening them to test their contents. He might not have known what he was about to eat, but he sure didn't want any of it to turn out to be toxic.

There was an assortment of dried fruits, a bag of pink powdery stuff that made his nose itch as if he were about to sneeze, hard bars of some unidentifiable substance that tasted like dirt, a solid block of vivid pink gel, vacuum-sealed bags of green goo… anything and everything, essentially, and Keith only recognized maybe a fraction of it. On the plus side, he was fairly sure that none of it would be poisoned, given that it was in what he thought was a communal kitchen, but on the other hand, he had no idea if they would react well to his biology.

No time to sit around, though. Keith grabbed the things he knew were safe and started stuffing them into the vents, since there was no way they were all going to fit into his battered pack. After those first ones came the things that he was _fairly_ certain he knew what they were, and after that–

A shrill scream. Keith startled, dropping whatever was in his arms. Jars clattered and bounced, a harsh cacophony of sound. In the doorway loomed the yellow-armored alien, tall and broad enough to snap Keith in half with his bare hands.

_Vannek._

Keith spun, ready to bolt, but there was a solid impact to his shoulder– a cloud of suffocating powder that exploded in his face– a jar beneath his foot instead of solid ground, and then–

The next moments were a confusing blur as the yellow alien advanced, tripped over a bag of hard purple spheres, and went down with a yelp. Keith flailed, all the wind knocked out of him. The yellow alien was yelling, something along the lines of a panicked " _I'm too young to die please don't rip my guts out holy crow._ " Panic bubbled, roiling and terrible and somehow Keith ended up with his back to the wall, ears flattened and every muscle tensed as he bared his teeth.

The yellow alien wobbled to his feet. He blocked every possible exit, boxing Keith into the corner of the room. Keith resisted the urge to shrink back as the alien towered over him, only reached for his backup dagger and scanned for weak points.

"Holy crow," the yellow alien breathed. "Lance was right. Those eyes are _freaky._ "

Keith bristled. Blood trickled down his leg from where he'd reopened the wound, and he knew that it had seeped through his bandages. Again. Vannek, he'd have to take care of it and get somewhere safe before he passed out from blood loss or something.

Tension thrummed between them, each side taking stock of the other. Keith tightened his grip on his dagger. The alien was big, which meant that he was probably slow, so if Keith was just faster, he might win. Let his opponent get a single hit in, though, and that might end him. Especially since the other alien was in full armor.

The alien held up his hands. One of them contained an intimidatingly large blaster, which Keith kept a wary eye on. "Hey, calm down. I don't really wanna hurt you. More, I mean."

Keith did not believe him. The entire thing had to be a trick.

The yellow alien's blaster flared white, then shrunk into a much smaller structure that resembled the green alien's weapon, but missing a blade. Slowly, the yellow alien edged over to the counter and placed it down, still holding out his hands to show that he wasn't hiding anything.

"For what it's worth," he said, "I think we might have had a misunderstanding? My friends and I, we just wanted to talk."

Scoffing, Keith refused to drop his guard. "Talk. Right." He recalled what Red had told him before– _untested, untrained._ Everyone knew that rookies were the most dangerous, because they were the most liable to do something unexpected.

"No, seriously. You're like, our age, man," the yellow alien insisted. "I know it probably looked really bad, but we _need_ the Red Lion. We can't form Voltron without it. And we need Voltron to save the universe." He took a breath, shoulders rising and settling. "That means we need you."

...That, that actually fit with what Red had been saying before. His connection with her was still warm in the back of his mind, but she hadn't spoken to him since the incident with the control panel. For a moment, panic sparked hot and searing. Had she decided that she wanted to go back to her pride after all? Was she just waiting for Keith to catch on? He wasn't sure. He was too high-strung and exhausted to think properly, much less make sense of the headache that was the mind of a millennia-old mechanical lion. If she'd changed the plan, though–

_Cub. Calm,_ Red commanded. _Listen._

Broadcasting every movement, the yellow alien reached up and pulled his helmet off. The face that was revealed was surprisingly soft, all rounded edges and laughter lines, younger than Keith had anticipated. The alien really didn't seem all that imposing at all, especially not with that nervous expression.

"Hey," the alien said, "let's start over. I'm Hunk."

Keith stared at him. Flicked his eyes to the weapon that still lay on the counter. Flicked his ears in disbelief. He might've tried to run right then and there if it wasn't for Red, who was the only thing that stopped him from bolting again.

_Trust,_ Red whispered. _Trust._

Keith closed his eyes and took a breath. He might not have trusted his captors, but he trusted Red.

Lowering his dagger, he squared his shoulders and met the other alien's gaze. "Fine," he replied. "I'm Keith."


	5. Gotta Fight Another Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are finally worked out and Keith joins the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! A huge thank you to everyone who left comments or kudos! You guys are awesome, and I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)

As it turned out, the Galra had a name ( _Keith,_ which sounded oddly human, but Hunk wasn't about to question it) and was in dire need of a hearty meal. Among other things, but that was what Hunk focused on, because that was a problem that he could actually solve.

Keith's ears twitched. Hunk stifled a laugh.

Keith sneezed, glaring. "What's so funny?"

Hunk gestured. The Altean equivalent of flour, colored a soft pastel like cotton candy sugar, covered Keith's shoulder in a starburst of pink that radiated out to dust even his hair. "Sorry, man, but it's kinda hard to take you seriously like that."

Keith attempted to brush the flour off. It clung on like stubborn burrs, refusing to let go. "You're the one who threw the entire bag at me."

Hunk glanced mournfully at the split-open remains of it, scattered across the floor like a murder scene. "Yeah, I guess." He picked up a bundle of dried green noodles. At least, he thought they were noodles. "You got any idea what this is?"

Keith blinked. Those yellow eyes were still unnerving, but Hunk thought he might've been starting to get used to them. "Um. Food?"

"Yeah, but like. Specifically." Hunk broke off the end of one and popped it in his mouth. Whatever it was, it sure tasted like a dried noodle. "Whatever, it should work."

"...What are you making?" Keith had migrated to perch on top of the counter, still keeping a wary distance. Hunk couldn't blame him. They hadn't exactly gotten off on the right foot. He half wanted to scold Keith for being unsanitary and tracking dirt all over the clean countertops, which he prepared _food_ on, gross, but he was fairly sure that suggestion would earn him another glare and maybe more bristling, so. He would let it go, at least for the moment.

"Uh." Hunk squinted at a jar of what he thought might've been sauce. It was hard to tell; the lights were still off even though literally everything else was working, so his kitchen equipment was fine except that he was cooking by the flashlight on his armor. "Spaghetti. I hope." Changing the subject, he asked, "So, how'd you end up with the Red Lion, if you don't mind me asking?"

Keith tilted his head, a considering look on his face. The silence stretched so long that Hunk almost thought he wasn't going to answer, but Keith proved him wrong.

"Red saved me," Keith said. "I ran away. Stowed aboard a ship. Lucky for me it was the one she was being transported on."

Hunk filled a pot with water. "How'd she save you?"

At that, Keith's lips twisted into a crooked grin. "I got caught. There was an… incident with an airlock. Red's the only reason I'm not a dead body floating in space right now."

"Whoa. That's dramatic." Hunk turned up the heat, waiting for the water to boil. "Man, and I thought getting _my_ lion was scary. I just had to break into a mine shaft while my friend Lance– he's the Blue Paladin, he's cool –kept the sentries outside distracted. It was hairy for a bit, but we made it out fine." Hunk laughed. "Pidge's was _really_ easy, though. According to Shiro, all they had to do was take a boat ride and the lion was right there waiting for them."

"Huh. Sounds nice." Keith's tone was downright wistful. "How did you guys know where the lions were?"

Hunk watched bubbles start to form at the bottom of the pot. "Oh, that was all Allura. She's got some sort of mystical connection to them or something; I don't really know. She managed to track them down and sent us out to get them."

"Oh." Keith frowned, rubbing at his jaw. "But, Red told me that lions choose their paladins."

"They do, I think." The water was boiling, so Hunk added in the noodles. "Somehow Allura used her connection with the lions to figure out which ones to match us up with? Not sure, it was kinda unclear. I don't really know how the whole thing works myself." He twisted his head to grin at Keith. "Yellow and I are buds, though. I never thought about being a pilot before, but with Yellow? I realized what Lance had been going on about all those years."

Keith hummed in agreement. "I know the feeling."

"Yeah. It's pretty great." Hunk set his spoon down, turning around to fully face Keith. "For what it's worth, I'm really sorry about how we kinda hunted you across the universe and stuff. I mean, I know I apologized earlier, but now I know you and I feel _really_ bad so–"

"It's fine," Keith said, curt. "I get it. I just–" his fingers curled, and he fell silent.

Hunk sighed. "Sorry."

Keith pointed at the pot, changing the subject. "Are those supposed to be that color?"

"What?" Hunk whirled. "Aw, that's weird. I have no idea." The noodles had turned a sickly grey. He stirred them with his mixing spoon, scooping out a few and picking out one to sample. "It tastes fine? Kinda rough texture, like they're multigrain or something, but that cooked surprisingly fast."

"If you say so." Keith still sounded dubious, which Hunk would've found mildly insulting if the noodles hadn't been the shade of pale ash. Hunk could see where Keith was coming from, honestly.

For the next few minutes, Hunk was occupied with cooking, only watching Keith through the corner of his eye. Keith seemed content to observe him, still perched on the kitchen counter, pink flour dusting his face and all over his clothes. It was a strange sight, to be sure, but at least Keith wasn't trying to kill him or anything. That was always good.

After everything was done, Hunk piled up two plates high with grey noodles and drizzled them in a thick yellow sauce. "Eat up. I think that's basically what spaghetti tastes like? I'm not sure; I have no idea what those ingredients were made out of, but the noodles are basically the same and the sauce could use some thickener but it works. I think."

Keith picked up the plate and inspected it as he would a ticking time bomb. "...Thanks."

To prove that he hadn't poisoned it or anything, Hunk grabbed a fork and started eating first. It was okay, he supposed. Could've been better. Could've been worse, but it could've been better.

Keith, though– Keith saw Hunk begin eating, took a bite himself, and froze.

Hunk stopped. "You okay?"

Slowly, Keith chewed. Swallowed. And fell on the plate like it was nectar and ambrosia.

Hunk watched, a little wide-eyed, as Keith demolished the noodles in under a minute. "I guess that means you liked it?"

"What the _zannek._ " Keith was scraping his fork to get at the last dregs of sauce. Hunk almost thought he was going to start licking the plate. "What did you _put_ in this?"

Hunk looked at the jar with the label he couldn't read, the empty noodle packet with indecipherable instructions, and the other assorted spices that he'd mostly thrown in for experimentation. "You know, I'm not really sure." A pause. "You want seconds?"

The way Keith's ears perked up at that was _hilarious._ And kind of endearing, if Hunk had to tell the truth.

* * *

It wasn't until Coran and Pidge finally managed to get the lights back on that Lance realized Hunk hadn't checked in for a while.

Worry coiling sick in his gut, Lance opened a private comm line. "Hunk? Buddy, you there? You haven't checked in for the last, like, hour and a half, dude."

Nothing.

Lance swallowed and tried again. "Hunk? C'mon, answer me. I'm starting to freak out a little here." His map of the Castle hadn't come back yet, so he was still sticking close to the walls and checked corners before he rounded them, which meant that by that point he was thoroughly high-strung and twitchy.

Still nothing.

Lance switched to the open comm line that included the entire group. "Guys? Something's wrong. Hunk isn't answering me."

A pause. " _He's not answering me either,_ " Pidge said. " _Hold on, let me see– aw, quiznak._ "

" _What? What's wrong?_ " Shiro asked, urgent.

A frisson of fear ran down Lance's spine. Quiznak, what if Hunk had been attacked? Hurt, or worse?

" _Oh, that's not good,_ " Pidge muttered, and it was like Lance had been plunged into an ice bath. " _I'm tracking his signal; he's in the kitchen. So's the Galra._ "

Lance's map sparked back to life, the Galra a blinking purple dot in the kitchen. Swearing under his breath, Lance spun on his heel and ran. The Castle's corridors all looked the same, but he kept an eye on the map to track his progress as he skidded around corners and pelted down the halls. Closer, closer, closer–

He and everyone else made it to the kitchen doors at the same moment. Lance narrowly avoided colliding with Pidge, with Shiro half a step behind. Allura didn't slow, muscling her way past the doors the moment there was enough space to do so. Everyone else spilled in behind her with weapons primed, ready to fight the Galra or rescue the Yellow Paladin or both.

Contrary to expectation, though, that wasn't what happened at all.

"...Uh." Lance lowered his bayard. "Hunk? What are you _doing?_ "

Hunk's expression was nothing less than a startled deer in the headlights. "I… am definitely not using uncooked rigatoni as a straw?" The short pasta noodle– which was grey, for some reason, so that was weird –dropped out of his mouth and landed in his cup with a wet _plop._

Beside Hunk, sitting on the counter and clutching his own cup, the Galra had a noodle of his own between his teeth. He was also dusted pink, for some reason, which was decidedly incongruous. Lance had to bite back the urge to laugh before the Galra took offense and clawed his face off or something. Slowly, the Galra sucked the noodle into his mouth and bit down, the sharp _crunch_ of it conspicuously loud in the awkward silence.

Hunk turned to him with an incredulous and slightly horrified expression. "Keith, you know you're not really supposed to eat that raw, right?"

Shiro sighed, one hand coming up to rub his forehead. "Hunk. What is going on here."

"Oh! Sorry." Hunk jerked his head back around. "So, turns out this guy's name is Keith, he's cool, and he was really only fighting us because we kind of fought him first? Anyway, he probably hates Zarkon and the Empire even more than we do, so. There's that."

Pidge did not appear reassured. "Hunk, seriously?"

"What?" Hunk threw his hands up. "Come on, he hasn't killed me yet, so–"

"Would you not talk about me like I'm not here?" the Galra interrupted, eyes narrowed.

The Galra was summarily ignored, much to his clear irritation. "Hunk, how do you know it isn't all a trap?" Allura asked, hands on her hips.

Hunk was beginning to look exasperated. He turned to the Galra. "Keith, help?"

The Galra– _Keith_ sighed. "He's telling the truth. I'm not going to kill you guys."

"Says _you,_ " Pidge muttered.

Coran, on the other hand, wore a contemplative expression. "Keith, was it? Are you truly the Red Paladin, then?"

Keith tilted his head to the side as if he was listening to something that only he could hear. An expression flickered across his face too fast to discern before he met Coran's eyes squarely and told him, "I am." His lips twitched, just a bit. "Red says to tell you that she's insulted. She chooses her pilots, and she alone."

The words had the air of a direct quote, but how? Even Lance had only ever shared impressions and feelings with his lion, not words. Was that even possible?

Allura and Coran were visibly taken aback. "The Red Lion _speaks_ to you?"

Keith blinked. "Yes. Is that strange? Red implied it was supposed to happen."

Allura pursed her lips. The rest of the group waited for her cue on what to do next. At length, she seemed to come to a decision, and gave Keith a slightly rigid nod.

"It seems we have no choice," she said. "Fine. Let's talk."

Judging by the way his eyes widened a fraction, Keith was actually startled. "What, here?"

"Why not?" Allura raised a brow. "Here is as good a place as any."

"I–" Keith's jaw tensed, a flash of fangs visible in his mouth. Claws curled around his pale blue cup as he hunched in on himself. Defensive, wary. "Whatever. What do you want to talk about?"

"Let's start with how you got the Red Lion in the first place." Allura's tone softened just a hint. "The Red Lion refused to tell me more than the bare bones of it, so hopefully you'll be able to shed a bit more light."

Keith took a breath. "What did she tell you?"

"Only that Galra had discovered her, and that you freed her."

"It was more like the other way around," Keith said. "But, really, it was an accident. I didn't mean to find her. I was just lucky enough to stow away on the ship that she was being transported on. After some guards sounded the alarm, I got trapped in her bay. There was a fight, I ended up opening the airlock, and Red jumped out to save me."

Coran sucked in a surprised breath. "So, the Red Lion actively chose you. I suppose that _would_ count as a test of worthiness…"

"It wasn't like I had many other options." Keith sounded defensive. "If I was caught, they would've killed me for deserting. Or worse." His tone was matter of fact, as if he was discussing the weather and not his own potentially painful death.

Lance edged over to stand next to Hunk, whispering, "Is this guy serious?"

"As far as I can tell," Hunk whispered back. "The Galra Army is not nice, man. Not like that's a surprise."

"Ouch."

"No kidding."

Keith ignored them, even though Lance was sure that he could hear every word they were saying. He did seem pretty wound up, though, all tense and stiff-backed.

"After the Red Lion saved you, what happened?" Allura questioned. "When Pidge first contacted you, we tracked your signal back to that planet. It was completely deserted."

A snort. "That was the point," Keith said, dry. "The _idea_ was that I'd be left alone." _That didn't happen,_ he didn't add, but it was clear that he wanted to.

Allura let out a hum of acknowledgement. "You have a very large bounty on your head, though, do you not?"

Keith grimaced. "You think I don't know that? I've been dodging bounty hunters ever since they plastered my face over every screen in the universe." His tone was distinctly irritated.

"I assume that's how you were wounded?" Allura nodded at Keith's leg.

Keith shifted, beginning to bristle. "Yeah."

Shiro stepped forward. "I'm sorry about that, by the way," he offered. "I didn't realize you were injured."

Looking away, Keith's grip tightened on his cup. "Would it have made a difference?"

With a vaguely distressed expression, Shiro replied, "Yes. I wouldn't have aimed for it if I had known. That was an unnecessarily low blow."

Keith did not reply. His expression, though, was curiously conflicted.

Moving the conversation back on track, Allura asked, "When Pidge contacted you, you didn't appear to know who we were. Why? If you can speak to the Red Lion, didn't you learn of Voltron?"

"No." Keith shook his head. "Red didn't tell me about that until after I had to fly into an asteroid field to lose you guys." He glanced at Lance, mouth slanting into a frown. "You tried to steal Red."

Lance threw up his hands. "Hey, how is this my fault? I thought you were evil! Y'know, like literally every other Galra we've met!"

Keith bristled. "So you tried to steal my _ship?_ "

"We _need_ Voltron!" Lance argued. "The Galra Empire's been controlling the universe for ten thousand years. It has to be stopped!"

"You think I don't know that?" Keith snapped, and his lips had peeled back to flash tiny fangs. His body language flipped from his previous defensive wariness, with he and Lance leaning toward each other in aggression. "The Empire took _everything_ from me! My home, my family, _years_ of my life–" In his grip, the cup gave an ominous creak. "You wouldn't understand."

Lance growled at the perceived slight. "What, you don't think the Empire took anything from me? I'm literally on the opposite side of the _universe_ from my family right now. They probably think I'm dead, I have no idea if I'll ever see them again, and meanwhile we've been wasting time chasing down _you_ when we could've been helping people! The sooner you agree to work with us, the sooner we can defeat Zarkon!"

Keith snarled. "Then we're on the same side, you– you _jemalikk!_ "

A beat of incredibly awkward silence. Keith and Lance just looked at each other, realization dawning. Then–

"WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY THAT?"

"MAYBE BECAUSE YOU ATTACKED ME!"

"YOU ATTACKED ME FIRST!"

"I DID _NOT–_ "

"Guys!" Shiro intervened, stepping between the two to physically shove them apart. "If we're on the same side, then we shouldn't be arguing with each other like this!"

"Shiro is right." Allura drew herself up, fire in her eyes. "Keith, Lance. We need to work together. Now, let's have a _civil_ conversation, shall we?"

Lance subsided. "Sorry, Princess."

Keith took a little longer to back down, but eventually he acquiesced. "...Fine."

"Good." Allura settled back into her more diplomatic princess persona, back to business. "Now. Let's finish our talk."

* * *

In the end, it wasn't all that difficult to get Keith on board.

Of course, it helped that Red somehow vouched for them, which, Shiro didn't quite get how that worked (the giant mechanical lion robots could apparently also talk; he guessed he could roll with that) but at least it saved everyone else some effort. Keith hated the Empire as much as they all did, perhaps even more so. His grudge was intensely personal, and he was all too happy to share what he knew of how the Empire fought and where certain bases were and such. Put together with how the team had tracked him to various colony worlds, then heard of rumors left behind of a mysterious Galra who'd _fought_ the Empire soldiers rather than helping them… well, perhaps Keith was more Red Paladin material than they'd first thought.

After Coran realized that Keith had reopened his wound and was done fussing over it ("How did you manage to run with this?" "Uh, I didn't have a choice?"), Allura assigned Keith a room in the same hall as the rest of the paladins. By the time they finished giving him a brief tour on where important things were ("Here's the control room, please try not to stab the panel again because that was really annoying to fix." "Hey, I said I was sorry!"), it was the middle of the night cycle and all anyone wanted to do was go to sleep.

Well, almost.

Shiro looked up someone knocked on his door. "Who is it?"

"It's Keith." The Galra's voice was muffled, but the sound of it instinctively raised hairs on the back of Shiro's neck. Shiro gave himself a mental shake, reminding himself that there was nothing to be nervous about. Keith was an ally; he was part of the team now.

"Give me a sec," Shiro called back, and stripped off the last of his armor. When he crossed the room to open the door, it was to find Keith looking up at him with a wary gaze.

"I want my dagger back," Keith blurted, then flinched. "Sorry. That came out bad. I mean– do you have my dagger?"

Shiro blinked. "Dagger?"

Keith nodded. "Do you have it?"

Shiro thought for a moment. Now that Keith mentioned it, he had grabbed a dagger, hadn't he? Keith had been using it when they fought that first time, and Shiro had picked it up afterward. He was fairly sure it was still in a compartment of his armor, as he hadn't had time to examine it like he'd been planning to.

"Yeah, I got it," Shiro replied. "Hold on a minute." He turned back to where he'd set his armor aside, rummaging through until he found the right part. The dagger was still there, lighter than he would've expected by its size and with brown cloth wrapped around the base of the blade. Shiro pulled it out and gave it back to Keith, who looked intensely relieved.

"Thanks," Keith muttered, tucking it into a sheath on his back. He moved to leave, but Shiro, too curious to let it end there, let out the first question that popped into his mind.

"Is that dagger special for some reason?"

Keith went stiff. His ears flattened just a hint, like a suspicious cat. "Why do you ask?"

Shiro winced. The hostility in Keith's tone was just about palpable. "Sorry. I was just curious; I've never seen a blade like that before."

Keith gave him a considering look. "It was my mother's," he muttered after a moment. "It's the only thing I have of her."

...Ah.

Shiro winced again. "Oh. Sorry." His pitiful apology sounded lame even to himself, but he didn't know what else to say.

"It's fine." It obviously wasn't fine, but Keith seemed eager to drop the subject. Instead of leaving like Shiro thought he would, Keith stayed put. "You're the Champion."

Shiro took a breath. He still didn't remember all the details of his imprisonment, but he did remember the arena. "Yes."

Keith shifted his weight. "How did you escape?"

Shiro blew the breath out. "I'm sorry. I honestly don't remember." As he spoke, flashes of armor clattering and the eerie magenta-mauve lights of Galra ships dredged themselves up from his subconscious. An echo of his own ragged breathing, the fear that had gripped him, the haze of sneaking and fighting and finally stowing away into an escape pod–

When Shiro dragged himself out of it, he realized that Keith was staring at him. Not shocked, not angry, but… thoughtful.

It was then that Shiro realized. Keith, in a sense, had been as much of a prisoner as Shiro had.

At length, Keith stepped back. "Well. Sorry to bother you."

"It was no problem," Shiro said. "I'll see you for team training tomorrow morning?"

A slight grimace flickered across Keith's face, almost too fast to catch. "Yeah, see you." He turned as if to leave, but stopped himself at the last moment. "You're getting the Black Lion tomorrow, aren't you?"

Shiro nodded. "If all goes well, hopefully."

Keith's lips twitched in the ghost of what might've been a smile. "For the record, Red says that Black's going to love you."

And, before Shiro could muster a response to that, Keith beat a hasty retreat down the corridor. All Shiro could do was blink after him, dumbfounded.

...Huh.

Maybe this team thing would work out after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic and chapter titles (except for chapter 3) are from the song [You Can't Take Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpmYcbPHuII) by Bryan Adams from the movie _Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron_. The clip of this song from the movie is [here,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ld6NOWWj7e4) and I would definitely recommend watching the movie if you like. It's one of my favorites, and parts of the main character's personality feel very Keith. :)
> 
> Feel free to come find me on [Tumblr](http://darkscaleswriter.tumblr.com/) for fandom stuff and [Wordpress](https://darkscales.wordpress.com/) for original fiction!


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